


Ideas

by 99_Girl



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Innuendo, Male-Female Friendship, Oral Sex, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-04
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 13:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1267942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99_Girl/pseuds/99_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An encounter with a perp lands Jake in hot water. Amy and the other officers of the Brooklyn Nine-Nine are forced to continue a troublesome investigation without a key member of their team. AU after "Tactical Village".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Evenings

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Brooklyn Nine-Nine or any of its characters.
> 
> Hey! This is my very first Fan Fiction.
> 
> What I'm hoping to do is to tell the story from the POV of as many characters as possible, using a different style and tone for each one. It's been a fun challenge so far and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> ***This work has taken a turn for the "E" so I've bumped up the rating accordingly.

**Jake**

**Sunday, 6:13 PM**

It had been one seriously lengthy interrogation but Peralta cracked the perp. Suspected of multiple home invasions- all of which were aimed at elderly victims- Davis Rodderly withstood Jake's questions, accusations, and annoyance tactics for a solid thirty-six hours before the stress finally got to him; coated in sweat and agitated, Rodderly finally confessed to three murders and sixteen counts of B&E and Larceny. A hit on his prints in the national database showed that he was also wanted for sexual assault in Maryland.

While a couple of Officers cuff Rodderly and lead him to holding, Jake takes the opportunity to stretch his arms above his head. From his stance it's clear that he's exhausted but that doesn't stop him from dashing out into the bullpen to run a victory lap around the desks.

"Jake, what are you doing?", Amy asks. "You look silly."

"What does it look like I'm doing, Santiago? I'm imagining the montage theme from 'Rocky' in my head while sprinting backwards. How else would I celebrate my righteous triumph?" He grins at her widely and she chuckles.

"Fair enough. I guess that I'm the silly one." Gracing him a genuine smile she turns back to the report she's writing.

Jake circles the desks one last time then cuts back to the center of the room. Just as he's about to execute a disco-spin Holt addresses him. "Peralta, get in here."

As he takes a step towards his C.O, Jake realizes that he's now dizzy. Stumbling once, he rights himself, puts his hands on his hips, and gives a thumbs-up to no one in particular. He then saunters into Holt's office and takes a seat on the couch near the window. " 'Sup, Captain?"

"Nothing other than your time, Peralta. Your shift is over and you look terrible. Go home."

"No way! I'm too pumped to go back to my apartment and rest. Plus, I haven't set up my bed yet." Jake at least has the decency to look a little embarrassed by this admission.

"You're telling me that you've been living in Gina's old apartment for five weeks without setting up your bed? Where do you sleep?"

"I think the question is 'Where _don't_ I sleep?', Sir."

"I'm not sure what you're saying, Peralta."

"I'm saying that the bath mat Gina left behind is very plush and comfortable." He gestures in front of him as though he were petting said mat.

Holt scrutinizes Jake for a moment before reaching into his lapel pocket to retrieve his reading glasses. After sliding them on he says, simply, "Dismissed."

Standing to leave, Jake sees Boyle, Diaz, and Santiago awaiting an elevator at the other end of the bullpen. He jogs to catch up with them, at that point noting that he's feeling more run-down than he'd initially thought. "Guys, let's go celebrate!"

Charles looks apologetic. "I'm sorry but I can't. Vivian and I have an appointment to look at a wedding venue and we haven't even starting thinking about what food to serve."

Jake cocks his head to the side and crinkles his nose a bit. "You're joking, right?"

Boyle gives a sheepish grin. "Well okay, there may have been a brief discussion of fried scorpions for a fun appetizer but--"

"There it is," says Jake, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Have a great night, Boyle."

Boyle turns and strides into the elevator car which had just arrived, waving goodbye as the doors close behind him. Jake turns to Rosa and Amy with big, sad puppy eyes. "Pretty please?"

"Okay, I'll go" says Rosa, "but I have to leave when my boyfriend gets out of work. We have plans."

"I would ask what they are, but I know you won't tell us so-- " Jake pivots to the left slightly to face straight at Amy, "are you in, Santiago?"

She presses her lips together and it looks, for the briefest of seconds, that she's going to decline the invitation, but then she lets out a breath and smiles. "Okay, let's go; but I am not buying your drinks all night, Peralta."

He waves the two women into the second elevator car, which has now just arrived. "As you wish, Lady Crabbypants."

\------------------------  


**Sunday 8:30 PM**

"What? You're not drinking, Santiago?" Jake casts a disappointed look. "We're supposed to be yukking it up after our big win. Gettin' wild! Gently loosening our boring hair buns! Come on!"

"Jake, we're celebrating; however, Rosa left an hour ago and you've literally only had two drinks and you're stinking drunk--"

"Oh, I'm stinking drunk, eh? Well I'll have you know I have the constitution of-- " Jake furrows his brow, searching for a clever analogy "uh-- er-- some sort of thing or person with a great constitution."

Amy sighs and puts her hand on his shoulder. "That impassioned speech would have been more convincing had you directed it to me and not the stranger sitting to your right. Sorry, ma'am!" She adds with an apologetic smile. "I knew I would need to get you home safely, since you're obviously already punch drunk from exhaustion, so why would I imbibe too? Just relax, finish your beer, and we'll catch a cab back to your apartment."

After realizing that he, in fact, wasn't correct in addressing the very tall blonde woman to his right as Amy, he spins his gaze slowly to the left to meet hers. "You're a real stand-up gal, Ace," he says, poking the end of her nose with his index finger.

Amy shakes her head and laughs. "And you, Slick, are annoying."

\--------------------------

**Sunday 9:03 PM**

"Jake, you're really wobbly. Are you sure you're okay to get up the stairs to your place by yourself?" Standing in the lobby of Jake's new building Amy gestures to the five-floor walk-up he's about to climb.

"Amy, I'm fine. Please, just go home." He grips the stair rail and starts up the flight slowly, tentatively. He's feeling overheated from the tiredness and alcohol-- his hands a bit slick with clamminess.

Assuming she left, Jake continues scaling the steps until, two stairs from the next landing, he is overcome by a wave of dizziness and nearly tips backwards. It's at that moment he feels two small hands on him, one on his left shoulder and one on his lower back, preventing him from falling down the stairs and gently guiding him forward.

"Jake, you're not fine."

 

\--------------------------

The next few minutes are a blur. Jake remembers having to stop at every landing to catch his breath; his breathing shallow, heart racing. Just as they reach his floor he trips on the final stair and faceplants into rough, phlegm-colored commercial carpet. Amy kneels down to help him up, murmuring, "It's okay, Jake. We're almost there. Nice and easy."

Through his quasi-delirium Jake quips, "Is that another of your sex tapes?"

She frowns but continues to assist as he clamors to his feet, nearly causing her to collapse under his weight.

"Jake, I'm not sure that I can get you the rest of the way. I think you're sick and we need to call an ambulance."

"Shush." He presses his index and middle fingers to her lips. "I just need some sleep and a fresh of breath air, Sani-- Santa-- Stanagamo."

"No. I'm calling."

** Amy **

At that exact moment that she receives a call from Holt.

"Santiago", she answers.

"Detective, I'm glad I caught you. Are you or Peralta feeling ill?"

"Actually, yes. Jake is really sick and I'm planning to call an ambulance."

"I feared as much. The suspect whom he was interviewing has been admitted to the hospital with a severe case of viral pneumonia."

"Oh my God. I'll call right now."

"No, don't worry about that. I'll send a bus; just keep an eye on Peralta and wait there. Be ready to administer CPR if he stops breathing."

"Oh shit," she whispers, looking over at Jake as he leans on her for support. "Oh no! I'm so sorry, Captain."

"Don't worry about it, Santiago. I'm sending Paramedics. Just hold tight."

The call ends and Amy is overwhelmed by a sinking sense of fear. Glancing over at Jake, she sees that he's teetering on the edge of consciousness; mustering every ounce of strength that remains, she ushers him to the base of the next flight of stairs and helps him sit. Squatting in front of him she takes his head between her hands and lifts his face so she can inspect it. He's pallid and cold, his lips beginning to turn blue. Hearing a rattle in his labored breathing, she straightens up so that she can wrap her arms around him to keep him from falling over. His head lies limp against her shoulder, giving her the mobility to awkwardly pull off her jacket and drape it around him. It's too small and too thin, but she doesn't know what else to do. Groaning inwardly she struggles to recall her rescue training.

" _This is ridiculous_." She thinks, exasperated by her sudden ineptitude. " _You know what to do if someone is in respiratory distress. Why the fuck can't you think of what comes next?! Come on, Santiago! Damn it!_ " Sadly, the self-pep talk makes no difference, her mind remaining obdurately blank. Unable to think of what else you're supposed to do, she places two fingers on the opposite side of his neck to monitor his pulse, and nestles her face into the crook of his shoulder. He's drenched in sweat.

\--------------------------

**Friday 10:41 AM**

Jake's limbs feel leaden; he is acutely aware of a soft beeping and the feel of plastic tubes invading his nostrils. Raising his hand to pull at the oxygen apparatus he feels another hand grab hold of his to stay his action.

"Don't even think about it, Sickie-boy. Doc says the tubes stay put or you're kaput."

Blinking, he takes a second to digest where he is. Given its light blue walls, white linens, and the curtain surrounding his bed, Jake concludes that he's in a hospital room.

He tries to stretch but is met with excruciating pain in his sides and chest. Doubling over, he clings to his abdomen and squeezes his eyes shut.

"Gina, what the hell is wrong with me?"

"Simply put, your lungs caught some bad juju from that perp you spent your weekend with."

As the pain subsides he slowly opens his eyes to peer at the woman sitting beside his bed. He realizes that her hand is on his and her brow creased with worry. Gina never looks this earnest. Meekly, he says "Am I going to be okay?"

"The doctors think so. They've been unwilling to tell us too much about your condition other than what we absolutely needed to know, but your mother has been by and she assures the Captain that you're going to be fine after you recover."

He frowns. "What do I have?"

Now that he's awake and talking Gina relaxes enough to sit back in her chair and cross her legs. "From what I gather, you contracted a severe Parainfluenza infection from Rodderly. He was sick before you brought him in and because you spent nearly two days confined together with no rest and barely any food, your immune system took enough of a hit for you to contract the virus, too. It was a pretty nasty strain and moved quickly, so before you know it you had a case of viral pneumonia and a collapsed lung. A secondary bacterial infection saw opportunity knocking and took up that prime real estate in your bronchial tubes, causing an obstruction. Your mother signed for them to perform a surgery in order to repair the damage. To be honest, it was touch-and-go for a little while."

"Are you serious? You're fucking with me, right?"

"Nope. I'm as serious as the respiratory failure from which you're currently convalescing."

He tries to shift only to notice another plastic tube extending out of his side. Sticking out his tongue, he glowers down at the offending device.

"Oh yeah!" Said Gina. "You have a shunt in your lung to drain any excess fluid."

"Any other tubes I should know about?"

"Only the ones in your penis and anus."

Jake takes a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain which results. After a moment he gazes over at his old friend thoughtfully and asks "How do you know all of this? I thought that they didn't tell you guys very much."

Shrugging, " I may have borrowed your chart from the nurses station after telling the night RN that I saw someone with their arm stuck in the downstairs vending machine."

"Oh, Gina. You're such a special snowflake."

"I know, right?"

"Okay so, the last thing I remember was going out for a drink with Diaz and Santiago. Care to share what went down?"

"Oh, that's a juicy tale, right there!" Gina suddenly grows more animated. "Rosa left pretty early in the evening and Amy stayed behind to take you home because she thought you were drunk. You passed out on the way up to your apartment so Amy had to keep you from going into shock until the ambulance got there. Apparently she was so flustered that she temporarily forgot how to do CPR and the like, but eventually she pulled it together and made with some mouth magic all over your face."

He smirks at her. "Did you mean that to sound so pornographic?"

"A little", she admits. "I'm bored."

\----------------------

Over the next few days Jake's hospital room is a carnival of visiting coworkers, family, and friends of his mom. Despite being tired, he's grateful for the unending distraction because he hates hospitals. They're depressing and dull. He does note one significant absence, though.

"Where's Santiago?", he asks Holt during his latest visit. The Captain and his husband Kevin sit in chairs on either side of Jake's bed. They share a brief look before Holt responds.

"I've given her some extra work, but she asks about you frequently and wishes that she could be here."

"She can't be that concerned if she's flaking out on coming to see me."

"That's not true. There's been a big development in one of her cases, and we really can't spare her at the precinct. She's even been sleeping and eating there in lieu of going home. The situation has been pretty dire, however I am sure that she'll be here to see you before long. It's obvious that she's extremely worried."

Jake rolls his eyes and drawls, "Whatever".

Kevin steeples his fingers and leans forward, elbows on his knees. "The important thing is for you to relax and get better. Is there any way that Raymond and I might assist?"

Jake smiles warmly at his new found friend. "I really appreciate it, Kev, but no worries. Gina is bringing my mail and Boyle is keeping me flush with his famous broths. I'm sufficiently cared for, though maybe a little tired of broth."

"Very well, Peralta." Holt and Kevin stand up, each patting Jake on a shoulder. "We'll take our leave, but do call if you need anything."

"Oh yeah, totes", Jake says, nodding. "Get ready for some late night high-dialing. This Phentonyl they've got me on has me looped."

"Wonderful. Looking forward to it." Both men give a slight nod and exit the room.


	2. Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holt reflects on the situation and Amy some advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks my experiment in changing my phrasing to match the character for whom I'm writing. It's not perfect yet, but it's an interesting challenge. Thanks for reading!

**Holt**

Mornings were often tough on Raymond's hands; his knuckles, at the very least. Lying in bed while the freezing morn interlopes on his comfort, he finds relief by flexing and contracting his fingers. Despite being in great shape, not even just for his age but in general, Father Time yet takes his due, and for Raymond Holt it's in the form arthritis. Still, never one to be discouraged by adversity, Raymond steadfastly performs this same exercise daily in order to keep the joints fluid. Sometimes he'll hold his hand in the sunbeams washing through the bedroom window to create a shadow crab on the wall. This is the brand of whimsy to which only his husband Kevin is privy,

Sitting up and swinging his legs off the bed, he notes the smell of breakfast traveling through the heating vent. Kevin makes him a hearty meal each morning before they both head to work-- Kevin a Classical Literature Professor at Columbia and himself Captain at the 99th Police Precinct in Brooklyn.

On a typical morning, Raymond would feel a stroke of excitement for the day ahead. He values experience and hard work; he treasures his hard-earned command. His years with the NYPD were steeped in hardship and ignominious actions on the part of his peers, but at the end of the day he prevailed and continues to thrive.

But this is not a day for which he's excited. One of his detectives lies in a hospital bed, still in critical condition; on top of that, he knows that Peralta is feeling the sting of rejection because his partner won't visit. Raymond had tried to mitigate Jake's concerns involving Santiago's absence, however is quite aware that he hadn't succeeded.

On top of that, Detective Amy Santiago has been deeply, inconsolably affected. He feels terribly for her.

Their dog Cheddar is perched on the end of the bed, languishing in the downy warmth of the silk duvet cover. After scratching her ears and kissing her forehead, Raymond presses himself off the mattress and gets ready for the day.

\-------------------

As he walks into the Station, all officers glance up with expectant faces. He and Gina are the ones who relay information about Jake's well-being to the crew, and each day they all wait to hear news of their fellow officer's condition. Holt nods his head slightly to indicate that he hasn't heard anything new, then continues through the bullpen and into his office. For the past week, stress has caused a persistent, pinching headache in the nape of his neck and shoulders. Sergeant Jeffords has been kind enough to bring in a microwavable heating pack which Holt finds himself using more and more often. The thing is a sack filled with dried corn kernels and the sensory experience has brought with it an unexpected dislike of the grain. Now he finds the smell of corn emotionally taxing, the thought of eating it disproportionately pejorative.

He walks around his desk and dumps his attache case unceremoniously onto the floor behind his chair. The sour pungency of Pledge dusting spray attacks his nostrils and he becomes extremely agitated. He'd made it clear that the cleaning crew is to use white vinegar and water to clean his desk, but this request always falls on deaf ears. He sits, tightening his jaw and tapping his manicured nails against the leather desk blotter in front of him.

“Sergeant Jeffords! Please join me in my office!”, he calls through his office door.

“Yes, Captain?”, Terry responds from around the corner. His broad, muscular frame fills the doorway.

“Please come in and close the door.”

Terry steps into the room and gently pushes the door shut. Holt gestures smoothly to a chair in front of his desk and the Sergeant obliges, sitting and crossing his hands in his lap.

“Have you seen Santiago?”, Holt asks, almost in a whisper.

“Yes, Sir, she's sleeping in the break room.”

In an uncharacteristic display of frustration, the Captain pincers the bridge of his nose between his right thumb and forefinger. “Has she been home at all?”

“No, Sir. I've tried to get her to leave but she refuses. I actually caught her sitting in the dark in the locker room with a flashlight in her mouth, reading through stack upon stack of case files. She just won't quit. At this point, I think the only way we'll get her out of here is if I pick her up and carry her out myself.”

“That's not ideal, so we'll have to come up with something else. Has she said anything yet?”

“Nothing that didn't involve asking for documents or phone numbers. She seems serene, but then I catch her tearing up when she thinks no one is looking. It's kind of a mess, Sir.”

“Yes. Well, she's got to go home and sleep sometime soon. She's been practically living here since the incident. I can't blame her for being upset, but all the same this is problematic.”

“I'll see what I can do, Captain, but for now I think that we just need to be there to help her get through the case and prepare for when she crashes.”

“I agree. Thank you, Sergeant, that is all.” As Terry exits, Holt bends down and pulls out the same Rodderly case notes over which Santiago is currently poring.

**Amy**

The case which nearly killed her partner is in jeopardy. This is the mantra which Amy has been chanting to herself constantly since the day after Jake went into the hospital; it didn't take long for Davis Rodderly's lawyer to contest his client's confession as being “coerced under extreme duress”. To be fair, Rodderly was very ill at the time, but that doesn't mean that he isn't guilty. Even without the confession, the DA assured she and Holt that the case was rock solid-- until, a few hours later, she got a call from the Medical Examiner saying that some evidence from the last murder had gone missing. Since that was the only murder recent enough to gather physical evidence from and the others had been been connected through M.O. and prints (Rodderly targets elderly people for whom he's done odd jobs around the house), there's little to make the indictment stick now the confession is dismissed. Now Rodderly is threatening to sue to city, under the assertion that Peralta may have given the illness to him and not the other way around, and that his detainment was executed in a “cruel and unusual manner”. It was a stretch, but she'd seen lawsuits awarded for dumber things.

Right now she's standing behind the station smoking. In order to be courteous, she's parked herself around the edge of the building, a good hundred feet away from the door. Unfortunately, this puts her in the direct path of Brooklyn's icy March gales, and to top it off the steely sky is shedding a fine mist of frigid water. With shaking fingers she lifts the cigarette to her lips and takes a drag, hoping that the nicotine will calm her nerves but knowing that it won't; it can't. Beneath the staggering stress of Jake's illness, trying to save the case, and the knowledge that smoking is terrible for her, she can't find a way to assuage her anxiety.

Exhaling a puff of smoke, she notes how the little gray cloud deflates instantly in the rain. The image strikes her as oddly similar to how she feels of late.

A moment later she hears the precinct door slam and thudding, purposeful footfalls. Turning to their source, she sees Rosa walking towards her.

“Santiago.” Diaz scowls and stops just short of Amy, reaching out and snatching the cigarette from Santiago's fingers. Without a beat, she drops it to the ground and stamps it out. She then reaches into Amy's pocket and retreives the pack of smokes.

“Hey! Inappropriate!”, Amy squeals.

Unblinking, Rosa opens to top of the package and tips the remaining contents into a puddle, giving the now-sopping cigarettes a vicious stomp for good measure. The puddle is now a pool of eviscerated rolling papers with tobacco leaves floating on top.

“You owe me six dollars”, Amy mumbles.

Rosa sighs and turns to lean her back against the brick and mortar wall. “I did you a favor. Now tell me, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

Amy recoils at co-worker's bluntness.

“I don't know”, she whispers. “I just-- can't. I can't stop working and I can't go see him.”

Rosa's eyes flash with annoyance. “You're his partner and he asks about you constantly. If you were the one in the hospital, he would come see you. You owe him a visit. I don't even know why this is a thing.”

“I-- it-- it just is, Diaz!” She makes a fist and slams it backwards into the wall, her hand immediately engulfed by searing pain.

Rosa raises an eyebrow. “Did you break your hand?”

Folding her fingers inward and inspecting her hand, Amy shakes her head “no”. The injury is actually an angry, red scrape along the edge of her fist where it connected with the rough masonry. Amy respects Rosa a lot, and knows that she's correct. _“I can't keep doing this to Peralta, and I have to get out of here for a bit._ ” Patting Diaz on the leather-clad shoulder, Amy flutters her eyes shut before stating, calmly, “I'm going home.”


	3. Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy finally visits Jake in the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is somewhat longer than the last one. Thanks so much for reading!

** Jake **

“Knock-knock”, a familiar voice intones from the doorway. Jake can't see past the privacy curtain but he immediately knows who it is.

“Hey, you! Nice of you to make an appearance.” He's smiling when he says it, but the words are tinged with just a little bitterness.

“I know, Jake. I'm so sorry and I can explain.” Amy looks so worn out and earnest that Jake's expression softens and he nods, gesturing to a nearby chair with a twirl of his wrist. “Fine. Were you doing something super-nerdy? A course on how to write the perfect report or a seminar on the cultural significance of doilies?”

She sticks out her tongue at him. “No, nothing like that. There are three reasons, actually, but first I want to give you something.”

His eyes brighten and he scoots himself up a smidge before exclaiming, “Ohh, a present! Is it a book about manila folders?!”

“Ugh, you're such a doofus.”

“Harsh! And in my condition! What would Captain Holt say?”

“You know, I took your advice to heart on that one. I'm trying to care less about what Holt thinks of me as an individual.”

“Oh sweet,” he says impatiently “Now hand it over. Jakie wants.”

She reaches into a tote she'd been carrying and pulls out a package wrapped in plain blue paper. A navy bow emblazoned with little police badges is carefully positioned on top. “Here.”

He rubs his hands together and tears open the gift. He can see Amy recoil by how messily he's doing it, as he knows she likes to open wrapping paper from the edges and fold it up neatly. To be honest, he relishes ruffling her feathers this way, and under any other circumstance he'd try to tone it down a bit because she brought him a treat, but he's still really annoyed at her.

Pulling back the wrapping he sees three gifts. The first is a pair of slippers shaped like patrol vehicles, the second a copy of Die Hard signed by Bruce Willis, and the third a mini DVD player.” He swallows, eyes bugging out at the crazily thoughtful gifts.

Snickering at his expression, she leans forward to point at the DVD. “The signature is authenticated.”

Jake's breath catches in his chest, causing him to cough and wince a bit from the ensuing pain.

Seeing his discomfort Amy's face clouds with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, I'm fine. No worries.” He fingers the slippers and looked at his partner sheepishly. “I'm sorry to ask, but do you think you could help me put these on? I can't bend over yet. My feet are mostly clean, though.”

Amy crinkles her nose at the thought of hospital schmoo on his feet, but there is a hint of a smile in her eyes. She takes them from him and goes to the end of the bed to slip them onto his feet. _“He likes my present,"_ she thinks. “Ohh!” She does an excited little dance as she stands there, the smooth motion of which is not lost on Jake. “I called ahead to ask and the nurses said that I could bring you some hard candy! I know you prefer gummy things, but they don't want you to have those yet. I figured that hard candies were the next best thing. And before you crack any old lady jokes-- yes, there are some butterscotch ones in there. I grabbed a mixed bag.” She walks back to the green naugahyde chair where she'd been sitting.

“I'm trying to think up something snark-y to say, but I'm coming up with nada. Thank you so much, Amy! And these gifts are incredible.” Jake smiles down at the super-awesome swag she brought him again, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. His thoughts drift back to the day after Tactical Village, the day when he tried to take a leap and ask her to go on a real date with him-- the day when he learned that she was dating that guy Teddy. Suddenly, that surge of joy he'd just felt is replaced by a tightness in his stomach and pressure in his lungs.

Santiago clearly sees him tense. “Jake, are you okay? You're looking sick again and you're a little pale. Should I call the nurse?”

“Naw, I'm just sad because I-- uh-- want to get back to work.” He manages a wan grin but doesn't meet her eyes.

“Yeah--” she begins, “that brings me to the reasons I took so long getting here.”

Jake braces himself for something he doesn't want to hear-- that specific cold that spreads throughout your body when you think you're about to hear something terrible coming over him. _“What if she knows I was going to ask her out and wants to let me down gently? What if she tells me that she didn't have time because things are getting serious with Teddy? Or that she's transferring to his unit?”_ These thoughts race through his head as he waits for her to continue. He knows he's being unreasonable, but that doesn't keep him from tweaking out a little. Biting his tongue he starts to sense a creeping irritation wash over him.

“Damn it, Santiago, just say what you need to say!”

“Okay! Well, the first reason is that you were so sick. Holt says that you need to avoid stress and I thought my being here would get in the way of your recovery--”

“Oh come on, Amy! I told you how much you being part of my work life means to me! Why-the-frig would you think that?!”

Her voice low and solemn, she continues.” Jake, we bicker a lot. Like, a lot-a lot. I know that's sort of our “thing” but at the same time I know it won't help you get better. I don't want to be here if there's any risk I'll make you worse.”

His casts his gaze down to the presents she got him and it occurs to him that she doesn't understand how comfortable he is with her. “Okay, keep going.”

“The second thing is that the Rodderly confession was deemed inadmissible because he was sick when he made it--”

He sighs deeply, “I actually expected that. It occurred to me once they explained how serious my situation was and that he is equally ill. It's shitty, and he's a shitlord, but I think that we can find another way.”

“Jake, I've been at the station twenty-four/seven and nothing I find will help the case. We're going to need additional evidence but there's no source.”

Then inspiration strikes. “What about his medical records?”

“What-- I-- well, we would need a warrant at this point.”

“We can get one. He's still a suspect. I remember that he mentioned having been to the doctor's earlier in the day before we picked him up. He'd had blood drawn, actually; if the office still has the sample, we can determine the distinctive markers from the virus and compare it will the blood samples from the victim last week. If they're the same, at least that draws more of a connection. And, actually, the hospital will have current samples. I derped on that but moving on.”

“Yeah, but that only proves that he was present in the house, which is possible because he cleaned the victim's house regularly.”

Jake grinned, “Yeah but the alibi he gave states that he was out of town at his sister's when the murder went down. Viruses have a really clear-cut incubation period, and clearly this one settles in within two days-”

“-So if the victim had the same strain in her blood, he must be lying about being out of town!”

Jake pumps his fist. “Jackpot!”, he hollers. Almost instantly the intercom pops and a static-y voice rings through.

“Mr. Peralta, are you okay?”

“Yes, Nurse Holmes. I'm just being a spaz. I'll keep it down.” He hears her chuckle before the intercom pops again and she's gone.

"She wants me", he drawls.

“Peralta, how long did he say that he was out of town?” The sparkle returns to Amy's eyes.

“He said a week-and-a-half.”

“Getting medical records can be tough, you know.” She bites her lip, another thing which Jake doesn't fail to notice. His stomach flutters.

Jake straightens up and high-fives himself. For the first time in a while he feels very happy; from both his stroke of genius and Amy's presence. He grins in her direction, trying hard not to look smug.

“I can't believe I didn't think of this on my own. I'm really sorry, Jake.”

“Oh, don't be. Remember how I dated that M.E? She actually taught me a lot of crap about viruses and whatnot. She talked about death and illness all the freaking time.”  
  
'Yeah, she was a kind of morbid.”

“I'm sure you'd have figured it out soon. You were stressed.” He pauses, “You're amazing at what you do, Santiago.

She shakes her head a bit and looks bemused. “Wow. That's high praise coming from a dude who once told me that my breath smells like failure.”

“Yeah, I'm very sorry about that. You're clearly not a failure-- though you're still a grade-A nerd.”

She looks at him, annoyed.“So, you want me to head back to the precinct and start work on this whole thing?”

“No, that's okay. Take a little longer for your break. I'll call Terry and ask him to apply for the necessary warrants. I'm so bored, anyway. Though I have my favorite movie to watch now.” He grins at her again.

“Okay, I'm off. I'll try to get back here soon.”

Before he realizes what's happening she leans in and gives him a hug; he's startled by how nice it feels.

She must have noticed him shift a scootch because she jumps back. “Oh no, did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. I was just surprised. You've never hugged me before.”

“Well, you nearly died, so it felt like the right thing to do. Did I overstep my boundaries?”

“Nah. See ya.”

**Amy**

As she turns and walks out the door, Amy is met with an immediate sense of guilt. She's not brave enough to tell him the third thing: that she and Teddy are exclusive and he might transfer to The Nine-Nine.


	4. Simple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Amy tries to get back to a comfortable routine, Jake's doctor makes an unexpected request.

** Amy **

The solution seemed reasonable at first. Captain Holt had called Amy into his office to ask if she felt comfortable working with Teddy as a partner again. Due to the nature of Jake's injuries and the physical therapy ordered after his eventual discharge from the hospital, Holt had asked to borrow Teddy from The Eight-Two, temporarily, in order to take up some slack. He also said that he knew she and Teddy had begun dating, but that there really wasn't any time to look for someone suitable because the Rodderly case is so important. He was already prepared with the proper forms to apply for fraternization permission.

Given that Teddy wouldn't be taking Peralta's position permanently, Amy really couldn't argue with Holt's logic. At that point, she and Teddy had been spending a lot of time together, with him coming to the station to help her work on the case in his free time. It was an incredibly sweet gesture and it made her heart swell to see how much he cares about helping the team put away Rodderly; not to mention that he was always asking after Jake's health and suggesting that he join her at the hospital when she goes to visit her partner.

She and Teddy work well together, perfectly in tandem, and when he officially steps into his new position the whole station is welcoming. Amy feels a degree of pride that he's such an amazing, diligent cop, but she continuously worries that he's going to want to stay on at The Nine-Nine, and can't help but wonder why that would bother her.

Now that they have some traction on the evidence trail they hope will put away Rodderly, Amy feels as though she can relax a little. She even worked up the courage to let Peralta into the loop in regards to Teddy. Thinking back on his quiet, accepting nod and strained smile, she worries that he thinks there won't be a place for him at the station anymore.

On the nights she stays late at work Teddy brings dinner for her. Its' easier to visit Jake in the afternoons, before his evening pain meds kick in and render him high as a kite, which leaves her nights open for going on dates. So far, Teddy has treated her to a tour of the Manet exhibit at the MOMA, dinner at her favorite Thai-Fusion restaurant, movies, an off broadway production of 'The Fantastiks”, a party at his friend's stylish loft, and even a romantic carriage ride.

Most nights she would stay at his place after their activities-- usually having tender, enjoyable sex, a shared shower, and a decent night's sleep.

“Dating Teddy is, well, relaxing.” She tells Rosa during lunch. “There's no drama or stress; he's kind and stable and clearly very into me.”

Rosa frowns at Amy, “That sounds crazy-boring. You're bored just talking about it. I know I'm bored hearing about it.”

Eyes rolling,”Rosa, you think that anything sweet and calm is boring.”

“True, but that doesn't mean I'm wrong this time.” With that, Rosa turns back to her lunch and continues to eat in silence.  
  
At Rosa's words, Amy feels a slight sense of unease settle into her chest. It's true that things in her relationship could be construed-- out of context and by the casual, objective observer-- as boring. “ _What does that matter?_ ”, she thinks, “ _I hate those romantic movies where a woman throws away a stable, comfortable relationship with a good guy just to take a chance on something with more-- I don't know-- oomph?”_

The question of whether or not she can be happy with Teddy in the long-term pops into her head, but she ignores it. Feeling stressed again, she becomes annoyed by the incessant hum of fluorescent lights in the break room, agitated by the smell of Rosa's Chicken Vindaloo, and antsy in her hard plastic chair. Panic sets in and everything is too loud and too real.

In this moment, she wants to get out of the precinct, and only one thing she can think of will convince Holt to let her cut out early.

She taps gently at his doorjamb and smiles hesitantly at her C.O. “Captain, I forgot to mention it earlier, but I promised Peralta that I'd come hang out with him during his physical therapy session.” She's never been a very good liar, but it looks as though she sold it.

“Ah yes, I forgot that was today. Very well, I'm sure having a friendly face present will helps motivate him. Please, send him our regards.”

“Oh I will, Captain. Thanks so much for letting me leave on short notice.” She glances above his head at his colorful folders, arranged in a rainbow. She's again impressed by how strong, principled, and brave he is. She knew he'd agree to let her leave because she knows that he values relationships and camaraderie.

“Goodbye, Santiago. Please call me later to let me know how it goes.”

She smiles and replies, “Sure thing, Captain.”

–---------------------------------

These afternoons with her partner have been so much fun. Jake's been in the hospital for six weeks-- in P.T. for two-- and he's obviously stir-crazy. While slightly more manic and even snarkier than usual, his jokes make her laugh deep into her belly and the way he just owns that his hospital gown won't ever stay closed reminds Amy of what it is she loves about Jake.

“Your butt is out for that whole half of the room to see and you don't even care, do you?” She's standing in front of him holding a bag of electric blue gummy sharks (she gives him one each time he completes a rep of arm exercises).

“There's no shame here. I've seen such terrible things, Amy.” He moves his head like a dog trying to shake off muddy water, then gets back to his task.

It's not lost on her that he always calls her “Amy” now.

\--------------------------------------

On her way out, Jake's doctor calls after her in the hallway.

“Miss, Santiago I'd like to talk to you!”

Feeling a jolt of worry, mixed with a dash of confusion, she obliges and walks back down the corridor. Jake's physician is a warm, attractive woman with braided auburn hair.; she's always dressed in lovely blue scrubs which compliment her eyes. Amy has admired her from the outset because of her exceptional bedside manner. As difficult a patient as he could be, Amy had never once seen Doctor Barbara lose patience with Jake.

“Amy, it's good to see you here again. I think that you coming to see Jake so often is really helping.”

“Oh thanks, Doctor, that's really good to hear.” Amy feels a bubble of elation rise in her chest and can't help but grin.

“So, as you know, Jake is being discharged tomorrow--”

Amy interjects, “No, I had no idea!”

“Oh, Jake said that he'd mention it to you. Since you're on his HIPPA form as a contact, I was initially going to call you myself, but when he said that he'd talked to you about his post-care arrangements, I didn't bother.”

“I'm on his HIPPA form?”

Doctor Barbara flips up a page attached to the file in her hand and reads the one below. “Yes, he's had you listed on there, and as a medical contact, for over a year it seems.”

“ _I suppose it's not that weird, since he doesn't have much family aside from his mother, and I AM his partner_ ”, but she's genuinely flabbergasted. Trying hard not to look too much more surprised, she takes a breath and clears her throat.

“Okay so, what's up?” She gathers her wits more quickly than she'd expected.

Doctor Barbara scrutinizes Amy closely before continuing.”So anyway, I told Jake that his current apartment was an unsuitable living arrangement during his convalescence. With his apartment being on the fifth floor, not to mention that his sleeping area is inaccessible without a ladder, he just can't stay there. The plan was that he would live with his mother, but there's a problem with that: she's been called out of town for business and will be gone for at least two months. Before she left the other day, she told me that you're the only person Jake trusts with an apartment on the first floor, and he seems to be comfortable with you.”

She must look uncertain because the doctor continues, hastily,”Honestly, if it's not a good fit for either of you, we have a spot open for him in assisted living. I just wanted to put it out there because patients tend to do better in the presence of family and friends; though nothing seems to kill Mr. Peralta's spirit, so we probably don't need to worry that much.”

Despite the initial shock, Amy finds herself responding promptly, “I'll do it. He can come stay with me.”

“Excellent! We'll have to run it past him again, of course, but I'm sure I can convince him that it's for the best.”

“I wonder why he didn't tell me.” Amy chews at her lip.

“My guess is that he doesn't want to put you out. He talks about you all the time and says that you're in a new relationship. Maybe he doesn't want to cramp your style, you know? No matter, I'm sure that we can talk him into staying with you; it's really better for him to be around a close friend. Take care, Miss Santiago. I'll call you later tonight to arrange an appointment with the home care service and therapy liaison,” With that, the good doctor turns down the adjacent hallway, striding rhythmically along, arms swinging broadly. Amy chuckles as she takes in the woman's jolly gait, braids, cornflower blue scrubs, and shiny ruby-colored clogs.

“We're not in Kansas anymore...” she whispers.


	5. Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy prepares her home for Jake's stay, but Boyle can tell that she's not prepared in other ways.

** Charles **

_“_ _There's something so impressive about what Amy's doing.”_ Boyle muses. He's currently gripping the end underside of a lovely cherry wood twin bed, helping Teddy hold it aloft while Amy surveys the living room.

“Maybe near the side window?” She bites her lip, scrunching her face in thought. “Or-- no. That won't work because it's too much light, unless I pick up blackout curtains. And I don't want to do that because what if they block too much light and Jake gets depressed from Vitamin D deficiency?!”

Boyle knows she's overthinking, that Jake is going to be comfortable regardless of where they set up his bed, but her panic begins to infect him as he thinks about all of the things which might go wrong once his best bud gets out. Doctor Barbara told Amy that Jake is forbidden from exerting himself, lifting heavy objects, firing a gun, or drinking-- also that they have to watch for signs of other complications, like breathing difficulties, or symptoms of embolism or stroke. Teddy must feel Charles' arms beginning to tremble as worries overtake him; he tells him to put down his end of the bed and relax for a second. Boyle obeys and sinks into a matronly armchair which is upholstered in floral fabric.

Placing the end he's holding on the ground, Teddy then sweeps across the room to wrap his arms around Santiago.

“Calm down, sweetheart. Everything is going to be fine. The whole squad has offered to help out with food and activities to get Peralta better, and I'm going to be here.”

From where he's sitting, Charles can see the glisten of tears on Amy's cheeks and watches as Teddy takes her face delicately into his hands and wipes them away with his thumbs. Falling into an embrace, she leans her head against the side of Teddy's arm, but Boyle notices she doesn't close her eyes and looks more worried than before.

Boyle can't help but think there's something going on, some reticence on her part, but tries not to think about it. They all love Jake-- he's the best. “ _Santiago is overly cautious and a perfectionist; she cares so much about her partner, it makes sense she wants to get things right._ ” With that, he puts it out of his mind.

  
\-------------------------------------

Several hours later-- having installed a sliding curtain to give some privacy-- Jake's makeshift bedroom is set up in the front-most corner of her living room. Charles stands in the kitchen, with she perched upon a stool on the other side of the partition, he walks Amy through the pre-made meals he's provided.

“This one is a simple, low sodium chicken noodle soup. I used extra celery and onion in the mirepoix to disguise the fact that there's less salt. Don't tell him because Jake'll pitch a fit.” Pointing to a very large resealable casserole he says, “This is a pasta bake in a classic sauce Mornay--”

“Layman's terms, Charles. You know I can hardly boil water and I don't speak French.”

“It's Mac and Cheese.”

“There we go. Thank you.”

Boyle frets a moment before he realizes she's smiling at him.

“Well, some of the other things I brought are fresh fruit salad, baked herb chicken, bacon strips, boiled eggs, roasted red potatoes with rosemary, a cheesecake, and a whitefish stew.”

“Oh my god, Boyle! This is incredible. I'm worried that Jake will use my terrible cooking as an excuse to eat junk; this is such a relief.”

“I thought the same.” She scowls briefly, but Boyle plows ahead. “I can bring more food as you need, and Vivian wants to help too. We'll provide more eats than you can shake a chorizo at!”

“Is that a thing? I'm not sure what that means.”

At this moment, Teddy emerges from her bedroom. “Baby, I got the intercom set up-- are you certain your landlord is okay with you putting one in?”

“Oh yeah, it's fine. Most of the people she rents to are elderly, so she figures it can only help the value.”

He chuckles, a deep and melodic, throaty laugh. “Okay, good. So-- you and Boyle are going to pick up Jake, right? I get off of my shift at seven, so I'll be here to help you get him ready for bed and I can get him dressed in the morning.”

Charles is taken aback by how thoughtful Teddy is, and also when, a moment later, Santiago puts her hand gently on her lover's shoulder and says, “You know, I really appreciate it, but Terry offered to come help tonight and then tomorrow before he and I head in to work. Gina's taking over after that. Jake tends to withdraw a bit when he doesn't know someone, and I think that we should have you hang out with him a little before throwing him into a situation where he's beholden to you-- physically, I mean.”

Most shocking is that this is a blatant lie; Boyle has never known a single person as confident as Jake. Giving Amy the benefit of the doubt, he keeps his mouth shut.

A gregarious smile extends across Teddy's face, leaving Charles more than a little uncomfortable with the lie in which he's now complicit.

“You know, that makes perfect sense. You're so kind and thoughtful. You consistently remind me of why I adore you.” Leaning in, he kisses her cheek and strokes his hand gently down her right arm. “I'm heading out, then. I'll see you both at work tomorrow!”

With that, he gathers his coat and strides out the door.

Charles plants his hands on the partition between the kitchen and dining room, his voice a frantic whisper, “What was that, Santiago?!”

Shrugging, “What was what, Boyle?”

“That lie. Why did you lie? I know that Jake isn't super-comfortable with Teddy, but in most cases he's an all-star friend-ing machine! What if Teddy mentions Jake's 'shyness' to someone at the precinct and finds out you lied? Jake's not shy! He has the bravery of Godric Gryffindor; the charisma of a thousand Dos Equis spokesmen; the raw sexual magnitude of David Hasselhoff!”

“Charles, you know as well as I do that Jake isn't going to want to spend his first night here thinking that I'm in my room having intercourse with my new boyfriend. He needs to know that I'm here for him one-hundred percent.”

“Fair enough, I just don't want Teddy to get upset with you over this.”

“You're sweet, but it's fine. Seriously.” She pulls out the drawer in front of her and retrieves a pink, lace-print memo pad. “Okay, we have the itinerary for the next few days. Let's go over the 'welcome back' party next weekend.”

Boyle nods and heads to grab his bag from the coat rack. “I've got my party binder and planning pen. Should we make plans to do a scrapbook, too?”


	6. Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake's first night at Amy's.

**Jake**

Getting settled in at Amy's is easier than Jake thought it would be. Despite the geriatric window treatments and weird knick-knacks, the place is warm and inviting. And she even put together a cool sleeping area. Spotting the sliding curtain surrounding it he'd exclaimed, “Hey! You made me a cocoon!” She'd thought that he was mocking her, but he really does think it's cool.

The majority of the evening has been him sitting around watching TV, but secretly observing Amy bustling from room to room while she finishes getting the apartment set up for his physical therapy. She seems focused, but hums to herself as she works; just being near her has helped Jake's mood by a crazy amount.

He's pretty proud of himself for not having teased her about her design tastes or asked any invasive questions about she and Teddy. He knows that she's doing him an enormous favor and wants to keep from being an asshole, though he's not sure how long he can stay here and not say anything about the plates covered with frolicking kittens hanging in her bathroom-- he's only so strong.

At seven-ish she gets a call while Jake is watching the Gameshow Network. He can't tell who it is, but the call is brief, so he assumes it was someone from work with a question. A few minutes later she appears holding a tray with two dishes of food, his pill bottles, and two glasses of milk. He gazes uncertainly at the tray until she says, “Boyle made you a bunch of food and I'm just heating it up.”

“Phew, okay. I thought I was going to end up back in the hospital for sure.” He grins, but mentally kicks himself for being so mean.

It's a relief when her face lights up in a smile. “I've missed you, Peralta.”

After they eat dinner, Jake flips through the channels absentmindedly. His pills are starting to kick in, which is why it takes him a moment to realize that Amy is nodding off and has leaned her head against his arm. Her chin is brushing the bare skin of his bicep, her breath soft and light as it passes over him. His heart begins to race and can feel himself becoming aroused, so he clears his throat loudly.

Amy jerks awake. “Are you okay? What's wrong, Jake? I'm sorry I fell asleep; it's been a really long day.”

“No, it's okay. For reals. I'm-- I'm just really tired. When will Sergeant Jeffords be here to help me get changed? Was that him on the phone earlier?”

She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and glances at the wall clock. “He should have been here by now. Let me call him.” She pulls out her phone and dials Terry. Jake's skin still tingles where they'd touched.

He answers after what sounds like three rings. “Terry, were you still planning to come help get Jake changed for bed?” After a moment, “Oh, okay. Well, please tell your wife that I hope her mother gets better.” Then a beat,” No, it's really okay. I'm going to see if someone else can come help me get Jake ready tomorrow, just in case.” She laughs at something Serge says, then, “No, it's totally okay. Take care and hugs to the girls!”

Amy turns to Jake while pressing the “end call” button. “He can't make it. His wife's mother has Shingles and their babysitter wasn't available on short notice. I'm going to call Charles to see if he'll come help tomorrow morning.”

“Okay, but what about tonight? I'm not supposed to do any sort of bending or stretching without my P.T. here.”

“Well, I can call Teddy and he'll come; he offered and would be happy to. Or, if it doesn't make you uncomfortable, I can help.” She leans back against her crocheted throw pillows and the lamp light glows golden behind her.

Jake's heart is racing again, but he knows that she's not interested in him and he's really tired so, “It's not weird, I guess. I'm exhausted.”

“Okay, I'll even avert my eyes during it.”

“Well, it's not that big of a deal. I just need to change my shirt and pants. These even have a drawstring, so I can push them off myself.” He's suddenly feeling very shy and acutely aware of her proximity. She smells ridiculously good and it's kind of bumming him out.

She stands and crosses around and behind the couch to a plastic bin she'd put out for his clothes. Popping open the lid, she reaches in and finds a pair of super-soft, olive green pajama pants. “These good?”

“Yeah”, he murmurs.

Walking to where he stands, she holds out the pants for him to take; as he grabs them his fingers brush against hers.

“Are you okay? You're trembling.”

Reassuringly, “No I'm fine. Just-- uh-- really cold.”

“Oh, I'll turn up the heat. Let's get you into bed.”

Jake swallows hard, doubting she's aware of how sexual her statement sounded. His best option appears to be standing totally still and letting her do her thing. “ _Next time I'm going to have to let her call Teddy_.”

Amy begins by unzipping his sweatshirt. He can tell she's going slowly because she doesn't want to knock him off balance, but the entire thing is weirdly erotic to him and he's so freaked because of it. Her delicate fingers take hold of the zipper and begin to slide it downwards; she pulls the fabric away from his body as her hands get closer to his groin. She's obviously trying to be respectful of his personal space.

Once it's open, she gently pushes his hoodie off his shoulders and pulls it off of each arm. She then starts a small pile for his discarded clothes on the coffee table.

Next is his shirt. He'd worn a button-down because they're easier for him to remove himself, but as he attempts to open the top one, he finds his fingers clumsy and shaking.

He must look panicked because Amy pats his arm sweetly and says, “Are you too dopey from your pills?”

“Maybe--”

“Mind if I help? We should probably get you lying down before you get too unsteady.”

He resigns himself to the situation. “Yeah, please.”

Her hands work swiftly, unfastening each of the buttons while managing not to touch his bare skin. As she works, Jake glances down to see her nibbling her lip in concentration. A distinct heat spreads through his lower abdomen and he emits a low groan.

“You must be so wiped out, Jake. This'll be over in a sec.”

Once the final button is dispatched, she straightens up and averts her gaze before stepping around to his back. He barely registers her movement before she clasps onto the collar of his favorite Navy blue shirt and tugs it off softly from behind. There is a brief rush of cold air followed by the insistent warmth of her breath against his shoulder blades.

“Jake, can you unclench your fists? I need to pull the sleeves over your hands.”

He obliges, supremely grateful the distraction. “ _The last thing I need is a boner while she helps me change my pants_.”

“So, how do you want me to handle your lower half?”

“Err-- ah-- uh--”

“Okay, how about you loosen the tie and drop them down, and I'll help you step into the clean ones. You're wearing underwear, right?”

Jake panics, unable to recall if he'd worn any today. He pulls out the waist of his pants and inspects. “Yes, I'm in boxers.”

“Cool, go ahead.”

Amy busies herself with getting the clean PJ pants pooled on the floor in a way which allows him to step into them. Once he's ready, Jake steps forward and lines up his feet with the leg openings. Still averting her eyes as much as possible, she kneels before him and tugs the pants upwards, letting him take hold of the waistband once he could reach. During their ascent, her fingernails scraped slightly against his outer thigh, making his toes curl. When it's all done, he offers his hand to help her up.

Smiling, she says “See? That wasn't so bad!”


	7. Whack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gina helps with party prep, only to be shot down and shut out by Amy and Jake respectively.

  
** Gina **

“So this is going to be quite the soiree, yah?” Gina thumbs through a party supply catalog at the break room table while Amy sits next to her, writing notes on a hideous pink lace memo pad. “What kind of stripper should we hire? You know, thinking about it, we should get two strippers-- one male, one female. Oh! And a contortionist we can serve cupcakes on! Only the classiest of parties have sweet-ass bendy tables.”

Amy pulls a disgusted face and shakes her head. “Absolutely not. Please, Gina. I really need your help! You have a great sense of fun and you've known Jake the longest. I really just need for you to give me some ideas we can actually use.”

Gina throws her hands up. “Those suggestions are crazy awesome, but if you just have to have something more your speed, what about a cupcake station were everyone can decorate their own treats and make special ones for Jake. You know he loves sweets. He also loves karaoke, so you should consider renting a machine. Or, better yet, go get Jake's Playstation 3 and pick up a used copy of Rock Band. Jake goes bonkers for that kind of shi-et.” Gina makes spirit fingers in front of her face, those perfectly manicured nails flashing a brilliant pink in the otherwise drab room. She makes it her goal to clash with the precinct décor as much as possible.

“Thank you, Gina! That's an excellent start. Let me know if you get any more ideas, okay?”

Amy collects her memo pad and purse before punching out.

Gina yells after her. “I'm an idea machine! I've got Adonis blood and Tiger DNA!” She then pulls out her phone and goes to the party supply website to order two dozen dayglow inflatable penises. “ _Amy will hate these_ ,” she thinks, chuckling.

\-----------------------------

On the night of the party Gina agreed to show up early and help Amy and Boyle decorate. As acerbic and contrary as she is sometimes, Gina loves the hell out of Jake and wants his “welcome home” party to be boss. She's not sure why she bothered, though, since Amy is being a frigging spaz and won't let her do anything. “ _Just wait until I start handing out the floaty dicks. Ha!”_

“Can't I at least coat his chair upstairs with silver glitter? He'd love having a pimped-out throne!”

“No way, Gina. I don't even own those chairs. My landlord would freak out.”

“What-evs. Boyle! What do you think?” Boyle has set to task on a huge banner, one which spans the length of Amy's octogenarian palace.

He lifts his eyes to meet hers, but continues working. “You know I want Jake's party to be amazing too, but I'm not sure we should resort to destruction of property just yet.”

“Blech, you two are so lame. What do you want me to do, then?”

“You know what?”, Amy says, “It would be super-helpful if you take my car and go pick up Jake from his appointment. I think we'll need an extra two hours or so, so maybe take him shopping or something? He's been complaining that he wants new sneakers.” At this, Amy turns her attention back to the music playlist she's putting together on her laptop.

“Ugh, fine. But make sure you've got some T-Payne on there. Otherwise the party isn't a Jake Jam, but a Fake Jam.”

“Okay, Gina-- please go now before he catches a cab home.” Amy sing-songs dismissively.

 _“What the hell is her problem?_ ” Gina grabs Amy's keys and slams the door on her way out.

\------------------------

By the time she gets there, Jake is already waiting outside of the medical building-- parked on a bench, putz-ing around with his phone. When he spots Amy's car, a shade of worry clouds his expression, but then he sees that it's Gina and perks right up. Standing slowly, he saunters to the curb and pulls the door open.

“Hey, Gina!”

“Hey there, Super Trooper! How'd it go?”

He winces a bit when he lowers himself into the seat, but sits back and grins at her.

“Great! Doc says that my bloodwork looks awesome and that I can have sex soon, so that's something.”

“Well, there you have it! We need to get a spinner up in here to do things right.”

Jake laughs hard. “I'm not sure that's a good idea while I'm staying with...”

Gina can tell that he's unsettled about something. Putting two-and-two together, she pulls the car into a parking spot and turns to him. “Okay out with it. Amy is being a mega-drag and you won't even say her name. What's up?”

“Look, Gina. I'm not sure I want to talk about it.”

“Jake, you know that I value the privacy of others about sixty-seven percent of the time-- but this is not one of those moments. Now, I'm going to take you shopping for some new sneakers as a present and you're going to spill over some coffee. Got it?”

“Ugh-- fine, but can I get those sex bomb sneakers with the tiny pocket which can only be perceived as a convenient, if impractical, hiding spot for an auxiliary condom?”

Gina makes a “duh” face and exclaims, “Do they make any other kind, sir?”

\--------------------------

Jake and Gina sit at a round table in a cafe near the station. She'd managed to locate a Journey's shoes nearby and after they get his kicks she insists on carrying his shopping bag. Now she's waiting for the barista to call out that their orders are ready so she can caff-up before the surprise party. She has a feeling this night will be exhausting.

Thus far Jake has been irritatingly mum on the matter of what's crawled up his ass, so she taps her nails loudly against the purple Formica cafe table while they wait in silence. It's not long before the sound gets to him.

“Please stop that.”

“Only when you tell me what's going on with you and Amy”

“Not a fucking chance, Snoop Lion.”

“Cool.”

_Clack-clack, clack, clack-clack, clack- clack..._

Jake slams his fist onto the table, causing the legs to wobble and the other customers to stare.

“OH MY GOD, FINE!”

“Aww, boo, I knew you had it in you.”

“Look, I seriously need you to keep quiet about this. It's weird and embarrassing.”

“Cross my heart and hope that Jay-Z and Beyonce break up.” She solemnly traces and “X” over her chest.

“Okay, things have been a little uncomfortable for me since the first night at Amy's.” Jake scoots his chair closer to Gina and leans in. “Terry couldn't make it to help me change and I was weird about her calling Teddy to come help, so when she offered to assist I accepted. I know she's not into me, so I thought that it would be okay. But the whole thing ended up turning me on really badly and now I'm a little off-kilter and contending with the worst blue balls I've ever had. This is worse than when I signed that chastity pact sophomore year.”

Gina raises an eyebrow.

“I did it because I wanted to score with my girlfriend and I figured if she got pent-up enough we would finally run the bases-- anyway, that's neither here nor there. The problem is that someone is always in the apartment. People are there to make sure I'm fed and safe, they listen when I shower to make sure that I don't fall; and while all of that is touching as hell, what I most want is to touch myself. But I can't and it's making things weirder! It's clear that Amy senses something's off, and it's so awkward when Teddy is over! I'm sure that he must catch me staring at Amy's ass, and I know it's bad and try to stop, but I am seriously hard-up and just can't keep myself from doing it--”

“Whoa, whoa, Jake. Relax. Firstly, next time I'm on Jakey Duty I'll bring my noise canceling headphones and you can hit the bathroom and do as nature intends. More importantly, though-- do you actually like Amy, or do you just want to tap her?”

“I like her. More than I thought, actually. Like, stand-outside-of-her-window-with-a-boombox like her.”

“Well, as you know I'm a sexual genius. I spent the better part of 1998 leaving footprints on car ceilings, so let me give you a piece of advice: you need a no-strings hookup.”

“What? No. That seems wrong while I'm staying with Amy. I'm not sure I could do that.”

“Look, you're in a tough position. If you really want her to be happy with The Grateful Ted, you need to get yourself some booty on the side to distract from your squishy sentiments towards her.”

“Well, I guess that makes sense in an Entourage d-bag sort of way.”

The barista calls out, “Decaf, four sugars with a triple-shot of raspberry and a triple espresso, black!”

Gina waves her hand and springs up from her chair. “That's us!” Then to Jake, "Don't worry, I'm coming to hang out tonight and I'll be a buffer. A magnificent, perfect buffer."

 


	8. Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy's party for Jake goes off like a dream, but she gets a dose of reality before the night is over.

**Amy**

Everything is in place. Charles and Vivian brought over a ton of food, Rosa took Jake's keys and went to his apartment to get his PS3 and some games. There's music, colorful decorations, and twinkling lights around the rooftop where the party is being held. She also rented a seventy-two inch flat screen TV. Due to the large guest list and unseasonal heatwave, Amy asked her landlord if she could throw the party up there instead of her apartment. There's a nice view, plenty of room, and a charming little greenhouse built by one of the former tenants which is now an enclosed seating area.

She and Boyle have set a plan and schedule for speeches and when they'll give Jake his presents, and they took Gina's cupcake station to heart and bought five-dozen unfrosted cupcakes of various flavors, not to mention a metric butt-ton of sprinkles, m&m's, nonpareils, frosting, and food coloring.

The guests begin to trickle in around six-thirty and Gina texts that she'll have Jake home by seven.

“ _I really hope he likes this._ ”

Amy spots Teddy as he exits the stairwell. Skillfully weaving his way through the crowd, he makes a b-line for his lady love. “Hey, beautiful! This is incredible! The decorations are breathtaking.”

Biting her lip a bit she looks up at him, “You think so? I'm worried that it's too much.”

“Too much what?”

“Pomp or flashiness, or even just too much excitement for him. I don't want to make him sick.”

“Babe, I'm sure that he'll be fine. He's a resilient guy and you said yourself that his doctor has cleared him for most activities. He's in excellent health and you needn't worry. Also, I read a study about how social interaction is good for physical, not just mental, wellness.”

This elicits a small smile from Amy and she stands on her toes to kiss him.

\-------------------------

At five-of-seven, she arranges the guests into a semi-circle as they wait for Jake to come through the door. To Amy's surprise, Gina not only gets him there precisely on time, but also has him convinced that she wants to go to the roof just to hang out.

When she opens the door to usher him through, everyone bursts into applause and a cacophony of hoots, hollers, and cheers.

She revels in the expression on Jake's face as he absorbs what's happening.

\---------------------------

After getting everyone settled with drinks Amy is able to slip into the little greenhouse, where Jake sits on an outdoor sofa chatting with Rosa. He seems to be having fun, so she assumes that he's stepped out of the main group for some calm and quiet.

“Hey, guys! Jake, how are you enjoying your party? Do you need a drink or food? What about you, Rosa?”

“I'm good”. Rosa deadpans, then stands and heads out to do shots with Vivian. Turns out Boyle's bride-to-be holds her liquor like a sailor. Must be all the drinking she does for her foodie stuff.

Amy takes a few steps towards the couch and looks at Jake questioningly, “Mind if I join you?”

“Of course not.”

He pats the cushion next to him and smiles inscrutably at her as she sits. Gesturing up and down with his hand he pronounces, “You look amazing.”

She tries to hide her surprised expression, but it's not quick enough.

“I- I mean... I don't get to see you in dresses that often and this one looks extra nice on you.”

Looking down she reflects on his words. It's a simple wrap dress in a deep navy, made of an incredibly soft washable silk. She'd picked it up for the occasion, and while she knows she doesn't look like a movie star, she feels as though she's done Diane Furstenberg's legacy proud. She's wearing tiny white gold stud earrings and her hair is swept into a loose chignon.

When she meets his gaze again there's an intensity in the way he's watching her. Her breathing quickens and she squirms a bit in her seat. Every sound and sensation magnifies: the din of the party, the flickering of the string lights, the sofa's rough, all-weather fabric. In the dim glow, his brown eyes appear black, animalistic. Suddenly, she breaks the tension with a forced laugh.

“Are you feeling okay? I can send everyone home.”

Clearing his throat, he sits up and adjusts his hoodie; the reverie appears to have dissipated.

“No, it's fine. I'm heading back out in a sec. Boyle made me what he calls a 'cupcake cathedral', so I've got to get a piece of that action. It should technically be a cupcake synagog, but I think he really wanted to make flying buttresses out of baked goods.”

Planting his hands on either side of himself, he pushes up off of the couch and starts to leave.

“Hey, Jake. Come to think of it our Bet-date was on a rooftop. How uncanny is that?”

He smiles sadly. “Yeah, it was.”  
  
\----------------------------------

The festivities conclude around eleven-thirty and Rosa and Gina offer to help clean. Jake looks completely worn out, so she sends him downstairs with Charles and Vivian, who offer to get him set with his medications and such. Teddy went to bed in her apartment a couple hours ago because he has to work in the morning.

It takes about thirty minutes for she and the ladies to get things tidied; ultimately, she decides to leave the rental tables up here until the service comes to retrieve them. Once they're done, Amy grabs three beers and joins them in the greenhouse. Thoughts of the earlier encounter with Jake threaten to overtake her, but she puts them to the back of her mind and twists the caps off their beers before handing theirs to Rosa and Gina. A gentle breeze meanders through the window and Amy sighs contentedly.

“So that went well, right?” Just then she notices that both women are frowning. “What's wrong?”

Rosa leans forward onto her knees. “We need to talk.”

“Uh-- okay. What about?” Amy starts to feel a bit claustrophobic in this little glass room.

Gina pipes up. “It's about Jake.”

Amy starts and becomes concerned, demanding, “What about Jake? Is he okay? Did he get some bad news from the doctor he's not telling me about?”

Rosa waves her hand, “No, calm down. It's something else. Now let Gina talk, she's better with feelings crap.”

Amy clams up and sits back on the couch, feet crossed primly as she waits for whatever she's about to hear.

Then Gina stands and comes over to sit on the couch as well. Speaking quietly, she explains,  
“Jake's been a little weird since he came to stay with you, right? That's because he likes you. He's super-into you and you're here taking care of him, helping him dress, the whole shebang. It's not like he's trying to be a creeper or anything, and he wants you to be happy with Teddy, but that can't be a thing if you don't know what's happening in his little heart. Be his friend and respect his feelings, and I'm certain that he'll get over it. There's no reason you can't stay friends, but you either need to talk about it with him, or be sure that you're not putting him into any uncomfortable situations.”

Amy is thunderstruck, her face flushed and palms clammy. “I didn't know-- I-- n-no idea. No, this is awful.”

Rosa chimes in, “I believe you didn't mean to hurt him. No one knew.”

“I guess I thought he might be attracted to me, but I didn't think it was as much of a thing as you say it is.”

Nodding, “It's just something to watch for, sweets. You've helped him tons and he's a bazillion times better for it.”

“Thanks, Gina.”

“Okay. I'm not sure if I'll talk to him or just try to give him some space. I'll take care of it, though.”

“ _Blah, what a mess_ ”, Amy laments inwardly after seeing the ladies down to their cab.

 


	9. Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake takes Gina's advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A HUGE thank you to DeepBlue QL for some very thoughtful, constructive criticism. The end of the previous chapter has been reworked, so if you haven't read the updated version this is a heads-up. 
> 
> Thanks again to all of you for reading!

  
** Jake **

“ _Gina was right, this is exactly what I need_.” Jake smiles at the prospect of resolving the weirdness between he and Amy but is immediately pulled back to reality by the mouth wrapped around his cock.

As per Gina's recommendation, he decided to call his former sex-buddy Elizabeth a week ago, and does not regret it. The second she'd passed through the door today he'd kissed her deeply and began eagerly manipulating the lines of her body. She always smells of citrus and cinnamon, the sense memory of which caused an instant erection which thrummed against the fabric of his jeans. There were no pleasantries and not a single word passed between them before he pressed her up against the door and went down on her.

Now, she's sucking him off and it feels amazing. Gina has done him a favor by taking a trip down to the coffee shop, waiting for him to text once his pal has left. This is the third time this week Elizabeth has visited during one of Gina's shifts.

Fortunately, Amy is working late and won't be home for several hours, meaning that he and Elizabeth can do whatever they want. He's not allowed to screw for another few days, at least until his next appointment, but that doesn't mean he can't give, and get, head.

Once Elizabeth is gone, Jake texts Gina and lets her know she can come back-- also that he wants an iced coffee.

His old friend reappears ten minutes later holding a half-dozen doughnuts and two chilly drinks.

“How'd it go, Night Moves?”

“So, so good. I can't believe this whole thing doesn't skeeve you out.”

“Nah, I'm very open sexually. There's no reason to be ashamed.”

“That's a surprisingly straightforward response, Gina.”

“For reals, right? That means I have an incomprehensible anecdote in the bank for later. Be ready, Boo.” She sets down their refreshments and heads to the kitchen. “It smells like lovin' in here. Does Amy have air freshener?”

“Under the sink, maybe?”

Opening the cabinet and squatting to peer inside, she emerges with a bottle of fabric refresher. “This'll have to do. Need your sheets washed?”

“I think so, yeah.” He grabs his iced coffee and plops onto the couch.

“Okay, why are you so scared that Amy is going to find out? I'm sure she'd understand.”

After a second, “I just think it would bother her. I'm pretty sure that she's been putting off sex with Teddy while I'm here, and it just doesn't seem right for me to be bringing over a lady friend while she's abstaining for my sake.”

She begins to spray the various fabrics throughout the room, “Eh, I don't know. Are you sure you're not still romantically sprung for her?”

Jake waves his hands in front of him, “No, no, no. Yesterday's news. I'm over it completely.” Gina is clearly unconvinced by his delivery.

“Okay...”

  
** Amy **

Amy sits at her desk, hunched over the Rodderly case files. The D.A. is coming in tomorrow to take a look at the evidence the detectives have established and she wants to make sure that everything is perfect.

Earlier today she'd called Jake to see how he's feeling, but there was no answer and for some reason this left her with a nervous churning in the pit of her stomach. “ _Where is he? He's usually up by now_.” Her next call was to Gina, but it went straight to voicemail. “ _Amy, you're being dumb. If there were something wrong she would call-- or the hospital. They're probably playing a videogame or something; maybe Gina's phone is dead, too_.” Her concerns aren't completely allayed, but she's able to concentrate on her work again.

This evening she comes home to find the door unlocked. “Jake, I really wish that you'd lock up. Anyone could walk in and I doubt you'd notice.”

Rolling his eyes, “Amy, everyone in this building is thirty-thousand years old. What, are they going to bash in my head with their canes? Please stop worrying about me so much. It's making you a grouch and you give me that crone-face when you scold me.”

On her way to the kitchen she passes behind the couch and punches him lightly in the shoulder,”What does that mean, goofball?”

“It means that your face reminds me of an elderly witch when you're mad at me. Was that comparison unclear?”

Amy's glad that they're teasing each other again; it just feels... organic.

“That's it, I'm not heating up your Bouillabaisse.”

“What the fuck is Boo-yah Bays?"

“God, Peralta. It's a fish soup from France.”

“Shipped from France? Wouldn't it go bad?”

She almost thinks he's serious until he turns towards her wearing a troll-face. “Jake, you're such an idiot sometimes.”

“Eh, you love me.”

In that moment, for the briefest of seconds, they both freeze. Amy slogs through the awkwardness with a tiny laugh, “In a way, I suppose.”

Jake attempts change the subject. “So-- you're going out for a fancy dinner with Teds tonight, right?”

Amy stands on her toes to reach a clean bowl. Why Terry insists on putting her dishes a shelf higher than where she usually keeps them is a mystery. Back turned, sorting through the fridge to find the Tupperware containing the soup in question, “Uh, yeah. He's picking me up in an hour. We're going to that new Italian place a few blocks from his apartment, then I'm staying over at his place. Is that okay?”

She hears him clear his throat slightly, voice just a tad higher than usual, “Of course. You don't need my permission because you're a grown woman with, well, adult needs, and stuff and boobs, I guess. You know? It's like, yeah. I'm not sure why you would even ask. Go tap that dude. Live it up.”

Amy pours out some soup into his dish, trying exceptionally hard not to react to how odd that little speech was. Popping his dinner into the microwave she stretches up to get a glass for his drink; while lowering back down, she can tell he's been looking at her.

When the timer chimes she extracts the bowl and places his drink and meal on a tray. “Here you go, Jake. I'm going to get dressed.”

An hour later she emerges from her room, dressed in a simple green sheath dress cinched with a leather belt, and answers the door.

“Teddy! I'm so excited to try this new place. Let's go, I'm starving.”

He grins at her but gently stays her movement with a hand on her forearm. “Hang on, sweetie. I want to say hello to Jake. How you doing, buddy? You look fantastic! Amy's company must really agree with you.”

She can hear that Jake's voice is strained but tries her best to chalk it up to anything other than what Gina and Rosa had told her. “Yeah, uh, buddy. I'm good, thanks. Have a nice night.”

“Will do! Call or text if you need us for anything.” Hearing this, Amy recalls myriad dates crashed, or otherwise ruined, by Jake-- however, she gets the sense he's grown out of that behavior.

Amy steps into the hall in the hopes of rushing Teddy along. “Okay, Jake. Rosa will be here in a few minutes. Remember to lock the door tonight, gotta go, see you, bye!” Taking Teddy's hand, she pulls him down the hall before Jake has the chance to respond. As the door closes she hears him mutter, “Yeah, sure. Goodbye.”

** Teddy **

It's nice to finally get out and have a private meal with Amy. There's no reason to be resentful of the situation with Jake, but it has put a damper on the sexual aspect of this relationship. Ever patient and thoughtful, Teddy has no problem taking a few cold showers until she's ready and comfortable with making time for their intercourse again. He can't lie, though, he's supremely grateful that time has finally arrived.

Gazing admiringly across the table, he basks in Amy's radiant loveliness. This restaurant has an especially romantic atmosphere, all dim lights and flickering candles. Her eyes are golden brown in the candlelight and her hair drapes loosely around her shoulders, both elegant and wild at the same time.

“You're so beautiful.”

She smiles back at him and reaches for his hand. “This is really nice, Teddy. Thank you for bringing me here.”

\----------------------------

It's roughly eleven when they pull into a spot near his apartment building.

“So, you're sure you're comfortable staying the night? I won't be offended if you'd rather go home. I know that you worry about Jake when he's alone.”

“You're sweet, Teddy, but I'm good. Let's head inside and have some wine.”

Upstairs, he pours her a glass of Merlot and joins her on the loveseat. He's always loved saturated colors, so his apartment is done in shades of warm maple and hunter green. He settles back into overstuffed leather throw pillows, extending his left arm over the back of the couch. Amy leans into his embrace and sips her wine; his touch meets the smooth skin of her shoulder, drawing tiny spirals while they relax in comfortable silence.

Their glasses empty, Amy stands and reaches for his hand; he allows her to pull him upwards and, weaving her fingers into his she walks backwards, guiding him to the bedroom.

They sit on the bed for a few minutes, sweetly kissing, before he reaches for the zipper on the side of her dress. “ _This moment is perfect_ ”, he thinks.

Which is why it startles him when she pulls away.

“Teddy, I can't.”

Filled with terror, “Of course! I'm so sorry, am I rushing you? We can wait as long as you need. Please forgive my forwardness.”

“No, it's not that. It's just-- I like you, like a lot. I like how we communicate, how compatible we are; I like our sex and cuddling and everything about this relationship.”

Taking her hand in his, he kisses her palm, “I like it very much as well.”

“But, I'm not one-hundred percent in this.”

Cocking his head to the side, “What? I'm confused. You just said that you like what we have going.”

“I know-- I'm confused myself; but I have to be honest that I'm not all in. I don't know if we're moving too fast, or if it's bad timing. I'm not sure what it is. You make me happy, but I'm not completely certain that we're right for each other.”

Pressing his palms into the mattress, he leans back, looking at her in disbelief, “I've got to be honest too, I think we're perfect for each other. Where is this coming from? Is there someone else?” His mind races, continuously returning to the possibility this has something to do with a certain detective back at her apartment. He keeps this notion to himself, though.

“Teddy, no, honestly. I think that things are just getting really serious and since it doesn't feel completely right I can't lead you on. You're amazing and deserve someone as dedicated to a relationship as you are. I'm so sorry. This is a terrible position I've put you in.”

“Well-- I won't lie, this really hurts. But I respect your feelings. Do you want to try slowing things down?”

She bites her lip in that tantalizing way he can never resist, however the effect is crushed by the impact of her next words.

“I really don't know if that will help. I think, for the time being, we should break up and see where things stand in the future. I really do like you. You're a fantastic guy, but this just isn't our moment.”

Kissing him on the cheek, she rises and pats his shoulder, “We had a good run. Thank you for everything.” And with that, she's walking out of his room, retrieving her clutch purse, and passing through the exit.


	10. Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amy is excited to deliver good news to Jake.

** Amy **

Several days later Amy gets great news; the district attorney took the new evidence to the Grand Jury, and they'd ruled to indict Rodderly.

All of Amy's fellow officers are present and celebrating with music and boxed wine-- at which Boyle scowls, stating that it's glorified lighter fluid, but has a glass anyway.

Holt walks towards her as Amy gathers her things. “Santiago, have you called Peralta to give him the good news?”

“Not yet, sir. I was hoping to ask if I can leave early so that I can tell him in person.”

“Very well. I think we can do without you for the afternoon. Great work saving this case, Detective.”

Amy's face lights up, “That means a lot, Captain. Thank you.”

Holt nods and she heads to the elevators. Once inside, Amy jumps up and down excitedly, barely able to contain her joy. “ _Jake is going to be so happy his idea paid off!_

Since the night of her breakup, things hadn't been as uncomfortable as she thought they'd be. Most of that is probably because she didn't bother to tell Jake she'd dumped Teddy. “ _He doesn't need to worry that it's his fault. He's just gotten a clean bill of health and is finishing his P.T. There's no point in putting my woes on him._ ”

Yet if she's being honest, she knows it's because he likes her and she isn't sure how she feels about it. Of course she'd previously entertained the possibility of them as an item. They have a great time together and she finds him sexy as hell, but it's difficult to look past his issues. He's in debt, doesn't take care of himself, refuses to take anything seriously. Add to that his arrogance, hygiene, and immaturity and the cons seem to outweigh the pros. To be fair, he's grown a lot recently and she finds his company extremely enjoyable now.

Climbing out of her car, she sees that the living room light is on, meaning he's definitely awake. On the stoop, she hears the familiar sound of her upstairs neighbor's porn flicks. Because he's elderly and practically deaf, he blasts the volume. “ _Viagra really is a wonder_.”

Walking down the hall, she searches her bag for house keys. “ _Jeez, he's really got that blaring today._ ” As she approaches, Amy notes that the front door is just a teensy bit ajar. “ _Ugh, Jake just loves messing with me._ ”

She can see that he's not on the sofa so, assuming he's in the bathroom or kitchen, decides to open the door quietly and give him a bit of a startle, just to teach him a lesson.

Grasping the handle loosely, she pushes it open, hoping to catch him unawares. To her dismay, she finds him in the throes of lovemaking with an unfamiliar woman. They're facing away from her so her presence goes undetected.

In stunned silence she stands agape, unsure of what to do. She wants to turn around and sneak out the door, give them privacy, however she's frozen to the spot. From all the way across the room she can see his back, slick with sweat, flexing rhythmically as he grips his guest's hips. The woman, a curvaceous strawberry blonde, stands bent alongside his bed with her forearms braced against the mattress. The blonde moans louder, each one punctuated by a gutteral whimper, until she orgasms so violently that her legs give out and Jake has to hold her up during his own climax. Still supporting her as she trembles, Jake chuckles and slaps the woman's butt before pulling her to standing and nipping her shoulder; she squeals.

A strange blend of deep arousal and horror course through Amy, turning her extremities numb. Head spinning, she feels herself begin to collapse into the doorjamb, smacking into it with a thud. Tears pool in her eyes while a sharp pain blossoms along her shoulder.

** Jake **

Sex with Elizabeth is always a blast. Their chemistry is explosive and she's completely disinterested in having a relationship, so their arrangement works out perfectly. In fact, the only reason he'd called off their deal was that he'd begun dating the Medical Examiner and after that he'd realized he likes Amy. “ _It feels so good to be with her again._ ”

Slapping Elizabeth on the ass, he keeps her from collapsing as she rides out her orgasm-- then pulls her top half up against his chest so he can bite her shoulder. It's then that he hears a loud thud behind them. Turning to the sound, Jake's veins run Arctic at the sight of Amy crashing backwards into the door frame. It's clear that she's hurt because she grips her shoulder, but before Jake can ask if she's okay or explain Amy darts into the hallway; seconds later, the building door slams.

He's pretty sure she'd been crying.

\---------------------------------

  
Around five at night Jake gets a text from Kylie.

“ **Hey, Jake. Amy doesn't want to talk to you, but I thought I'd let you know she's ok.** ”

Jake texts back, “ **Thanks, Kylie. Is she coming home tonight?** ”

A moment later his phone chimes. “ **No, she's pretty upset. You really had a girl there?** ”

“ **Yes, and it was shitty of me. I'm a guest. Please tell her I know I crossed a line.** ”

Without thinking Jake dials Boyle. It's only a couple of rings before Charles picks up.

“Hey, Jake! What's cookin'?”

“What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing much. Vivian is at a faculty meeting so I'm just reading through 'The Joy of Cooking' again. Why? You want to hang?”

“Yeah. Meet me at the bar in twenty?”

“Roger that!”

** Charles **

Charles steps up to the bar to find a crestfallen Jake, seemingly several drinks ahead.

“Jake, what's going on? You look terrible.”

Rubbing his face vigorously with both hands, Jake groans frustratedly. “It's bad, Boyle. Really bad.”

“Jake, nothing is so bad that we can't handle it together. Come on, I'm here to help. Talk to me.”  
Jake follows Charles when he heads to a booth. “This is more private. Now tell me what's bothering you.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, “Amy came home early to find me with a-- well, a lady friend. It freaked her out so much that she fell over and hit her shoulder on the door, then ran off. Now she's pissed at me and it's all my fault.”

“What do you mean by 'lady friend'? One of your mom's friends?”

“No--”

“Oh, your physical therapist? Why would she be shocked by that--”

“No, that's not it, you're--”

“A friend from college?”

“Jesus, Boyle! She caught me fucking a woman in the living room!”

It was one of those moments like they have in the movies, where someone says something embarrassing and the music cuts out while everyone stares. Both men flush crimson and Jake waves his hand at the room full of people, “Really sorry, peeps. Won't happen again!”

Refocusing, Charles slides closer to his friend. In a whisper, “Jake, why did you do that in Amy's living room?”

“I was really struggling with my attraction to her. I couldn't move back into my apartment before my doctor cleared me to, and I was going nuts from the constant supervision. It's no excuse, but still; is it really that bad, anyway?”

Boyle scrunches his face in thought for a moment, then, “I guess you have a point. It's not great, but you're an adult. I think you should have asked her, though. That's the bad part.”

“Yeah. Ugh, this whole thing is such a frigging mess. What should I do? She's at Kylie's for the night, but she's coming home eventually and I assume she'll want a good explanation. But what the hell can I say?”

Charles pats Jake's back, “What you told me seems okay.”

“And the worst part is that I keep telling myself that I'm over my crush on her, but I'm not by a long shot. We've been spending so much time together that I like her more than ever. I can't ask her out because of Teddy, and I can't get past this attraction bullshit!”

“Well, she seems to be over Teddy for the most part, so I wouldn't worry as much about that aspect. She broke up with him, after all.”

Jake chokes on his beer, “They're not together anymore?”

Attempting to play off his mistake, “Oh, um, I'm-- ah-- drunk so you shouldn't listen to me.”

“You just got here and you haven't had anything yet.”

“Err-- Vivie and I were doing body shots before I came here!”

“That's a lie, Boyle, a disgusting one at that. Why wouldn't Amy tell me that she's not with Teddy anymore?”

He's uncertain how much he should say, not wanting to violate Amy's trust on top of Jake's actions, but he loves his friend too much to leave him dangling. “She said that she doesn't want you to think it has anything to do with you. She's scared you'll think it's your fault and that's bad for your recovery.”

“ _Or she knows I like her and is afraid I'll ask her out._ ” Punching himself in the leg, Jake signals for the waitress. “Let's get drunk.”

** Jake **

The next morning Jake awakes with the worst hangover he's ever had. After his encounter with Jimmy Brogan he thought he'd never let himself get that smashed again and he's stuck to that vow-- he got way drunker than he did with Brogran.

Rolling onto his side, he shields his arm over his eyes to block out the obnoxious sunshine blasting through the window. The sound of sizzling and smell of bacon fills the place.  
Mumbling, “Charles! What are you doing?”

“Making you some hangover breakfast. It'll be ready in a minute. I had to run down to the bodega to get supplies because Amy is reprehensibly deficient in grocery staples.”

Jake practically rolls out of bed, his feet heavy and cumbersome. “How the hell are you okay, Boyle? You drank, too.”

“Not very much. I had a couple of beers, brought you home at closing, and rubbed your back while you puked for an hour.”

“Oh, that's what I'm tasting. I must have been wasted because I don't remember any of that.”

“Yeah, you were pretty far gone.” Charles holds the frying pan aloft, scraping the eggs onto an awaiting plate and doling out several pieces of bacon he'd set aside to drain. He passes the food to Jake. “So, yeah. You said some interesting things last night.”

With a mouthful of food, Jake garbles, “Like what?”

“Well, the big thing is that you said you're in love with Amy.”

Shaking his head, “That's dumb, you're dumb. You're lying.”

“I'm not, Jake. You said that you're in love with Amy but that you don't think she'll ever be interested in you.”

“I'm not sure why I would say something so stupid because it's not true.”

“Jake, I've known you a while and I'd like to think that I know when you're telling the truth. And you were too drunk to lie, anyway.”

He's suddenly very interested in a little scratch in the counter top on which his plate rests. He drags his nail along the groove, avoiding Boyle's eyes, “Fine, maybe my feelings are strong, I can't tell her. I mean-- right?”

“I don't know, man. If you think she's not interested, this could ruin your partnership. She might transfer or something. For the record, though, I do think she likes you.”

“It's risky and she's too important to me. Give me some ideas on how I can get over her.” Jake grabs a pen and Amy's pink lace memo pad. “Boyle, I need your help.”


	11. Cool

** Amy **

Kylie's car sits outside Amy's building.

“Are you ready to go in, sweets?”

Amy stares ahead, looking at nothing in particular. “I think so.”

“Do you need me to come with you?

“No, but thank you. I need to talk to him alone.”

She tugs the door handle and climbs out, then turns back to say goodbye. “See you later.”

Just before Amy pushes the door shut, Kylie says, “Wait!”

“What's up?”

“Honey, why do you care?”

Amy gives her best friend a quizzical look. “What are you talking about?”

“Why do you care that Jake was with that woman?”

“I don't know, I guess it's just upsetting that he did it in my house.”

“Yeah but, it seems like there's more to it than that. A while back, if he'd done something like this you'd have been mad for a while, but not so upset. I just wonder why this has gotten so much further under your skin than it really should be.”

“He's just-- it's not-- you just don't understand. It was really traumatic!”

“Why, though?”

Scowling, Amy clenches her fist onto the door handle. “I've got to go. I'll call you later.”

With that, she swings the door shut and stomps up the front stairs.

** Jake **

The moment is here and Jake can't help but be nervous. He'd spent most of last night in front of the mirror, practicing how this meeting would play out. He's been feeling pretty confident with what he plans to say, but the metallic _thwump_ of Kylie's car door has set his stomach to flips again.

He determined last night that the best thing to do is draw the conversation into the kitchen, away from where she'd caught him with Elizabeth. To this end, he's started a pot of water boiling and plans to make pasta for dinner while they talk. For extra measure, he's closed the privacy curtain around his bed, but left the window open so that she can see from the shadows that there's no one hiding in there.

_“I might be overthinking this but-- eh, no. It's better to be prepared for anything.”_

For some reason, the acoustics in this building's halls are bananas and every little sound echoes-- an annoying property while he's trying to sleep, but truly beneficial in this moment as it gives him a chance to set the scene before she comes in. Turning on the sink, he starts washing his lunch dish just before he hears the door creak.

** Amy **

Before opening the door to her apartment, she stops and steadies herself with a deep breath. Amy has no clue what she wants to tell Jake. She's angry with him, but in a distressingly undefinable way-- the sort of impotent, directionless fury one feels as a child.

As she pushes on the handle, she sees Jake in the kitchen washing something in the sink; there's a pot boiling on the stove and he's freshly shaven. His typical uniform of casual button-down and hoodie is in place, but both articles are clean. It seems as though Jake has emerged from his rumpled cocoon.

Closing the door behind her, Amy sets her keys and purse on the coffee table. At the jingling of metal, Jake turns and smiles, drying his hands on a paisley dishtowel. Amy is glad to note that the curtain is closed around the bed; she doesn't want to think about what happened there.

Stepping up to the partition between the kitchen and dining room, Jake gestures for Amy to sit on one of the barstools, before pulling down a stemmed glass and pouring her some wine. She obliges and waits for him to talk first.

He coughs a little to clear his throat, “Amy, I owe you an apology and explanation. I know that it was wrong of me to bring a stranger into your home and violate your trust. You like things sanitary and uncomplicated, and you've shown me nothing but kindness; it's shameful that my way of repaying all of that is by being a tool and doing what I did. There's no excuse and I'm willing to do anything I can to make it up to you. Seriously, anything at all. Want me to shave my head? My hair is the shit but I'll do it for you because having you around is that important to me.” It's clear that this speech is well rehearsed.

Her icy demeanor begins to thaw and she can't help but smile at his offer. She knows he cares and that he'd never intentionally hurt her; with all of his teasing, she's at least always known that.

Shifting to glance over his shoulder at the stove, “Whatcha makin'?”

Following her gaze after a double-take, “So-- you're not angry with me?”

“No, I'm not mad at you. Let's get dinner together, I'm starving.” The moment these words leave her she feels a wave of relief. _“I'm disappointed in myself.”_

** Jake **

The pasta dish Jake made-- which happens to be the only one he knows how to make-- is a spicy Penne Arabiatta.

He and Amy are sitting on the sofa facing one another, feet tucked beneath themselves and a tray set up between them as a makeshift table.

“This, Jake, is amazing! Where did you learn to make this?”

“I can't reveal my secrets”, he puts his finger to his lips, eyes hooded and coy.

Amy bats his hand gently, “It was Charles, right?”

“Oh definitely”, he continues with a big smile, “but it seems I can stew up a mean tomato sauce if given the proper instruction.”

“I'll have to let him know that his protege impressed me.”

“Sweet.”

They spend the rest of the evening drinking wine and chatting about work; yet the conversation takes a turn when Jake asks, sans preamble, “Why didn't you tell me about Teddy?”

She isn't smiling anymore but doesn't seem upset, either.

“I realize that the situation with you living here and my taking care of you has made things-- confusing, I guess. I've gotten the sense for a while that you're uncomfortable with Teddy, and the thought of you beating yourself up thinking that you'd played a role in why I ended things was unacceptable. So, I made a choice and lied, which was wrong.”

Jake's brows knit as he listens; hands starting to feel awkward, he worries his body language is coming off as unnatural. He hadn't expected this.

“Well, you didn't really lie, Amy. You just didn't tell me.”

“It's a lie by omission, Jake, and I can't conceivably demand honesty from you if I'm going to be lying as well. I'm still uncomfortable with what happened, but you're an adult and I don't think of you as a guest anymore. That's why I haven't asked that you explain yourself.”

Jake's ears and neck are rosy. There's nothing he wants more than to direct this conversation-- every conversation ever-- away from anything emotional. He decides in that moment that he's done keeping things from Amy.

“Look, I appreciate that, but I should have done things better. And I want you to know why I brought Elizabeth here.”

She seems to flinch a bit when he mentions Elizabeth, but then nods.

“The most direct answer is that I was really horny, but that's kinda elementary. The tough thing to admit is that I was super-horny because of you. It's not even anything you were doing, but just being around you so much. I was scared that if I didn't release some of that, well, tension, I'd do something awkward which might hurt our friendship, and I was starting to feel more strongly--”

Amy doesn't seem as shocked by this admission as he'd thought she'd be.

“So yeah, I've had a thing for you for a while. I wasn't aware until our joke date, but I'm crazy into you.” Jake pauses to waiting for an interjection, but doesn't doesn't come. “Anyway, being here with you while I recover has been the best time of my life. You're my friend and you went out of your way to make me comfortable. We're partners at work and I trust you implicitly, with everything-- our work, my life, everything.”

When she continues listening calmly he plows ahead,

“I was going to ask you out the day after Tactical Village, but you were so happy about Teddy that I chickened out. Then I got hurt, which brings us here. This entire experience has shown me that you care a lot, but I know that you're not interested in me romantic stylez, so I'm getting it off my chest and we'll move on as friends and partners, with no expectations on my part for future romance stuff, 'K?

Breath stymied by anxiety, he waits for her to talk. There's an indefinable glint in her eyes, maybe a trace of sadness. He can almost see the cogs working in that analytical mind of hers and, before too long, a broad smile forms on her lips.

“Thank you, Jake. I'm glad you were honest and it's very mature of you to want to deal with your feelings this way. Now, how about I rustle up some dessert?”

He's willing to admit to himself that it stings that she can brush this all off so easily, but he's glad to have told her the truth. He can't handle the idea of a life without Amy, and if this is the way to keep her around, he's going to keep his promise. _“It's going to be so hard to stop loving her, though.”_

** Amy **

Amy stands in line at a bodega in her neighborhood, rummaging through her coin purse for exact change. After the person in front of her takes his bags and leaves, she steps up to the counter and sets down her hand basket, containing a tub of chocolate ice cream, a canister of whipped cream, strawberry syrup, and a jar of maraschino cherries.

The proprietor takes her money and hands her a receipt without saying a word and she's left with nothing new to think about other than Jake's admission.

It's still unseasonably warm, so much so that she hasn't bothered to wear a jacket on the walk to and from the market, and there's a group of young children being ushered off a bus and into the nearby Rec Center. The wind is warm and sweet; it's a nice night.

_“So, he's okay with just being my friend. He wants me in his life, regardless of the reason.”_

This is the segment of his confession which seems most out of character. Jake isn't accustomed to losing or not getting what he wants. The fact that he was willing to give up completely if it means she'd be happy with Teddy shows that he's become much, much more mature-- as does the fact that he's not pressuring her to be with him even now that she's single.

_“He respects me.”_

About a block before her building, she pulls out her phone and, letting the plastic grocery bag hang from her wrist, types out a quick text to Kylie.

**“You were right, I was overreacting. No gloating, please.”**


	12. Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake and Amy enjoy one another's company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! First I was sick, then I had a bit of writer's block, but I'm back and hoping to update this at least once per week.
> 
> Thank you so much for the helpful and kind comments and kudos! It's really helped me keep going on this project!
> 
> This chapter is still in semi-beta, as it still needs some proofing and touching up, but I wanted to get it out ASAP :D

** Jake **

By the time Amy returns with dessert, the full gravity of their previous conversation has sunken in. While really proud of himself for being open and honest, he's disappointed to know for certain that she's not interested in him. While she was out, he'd texted Boyle.

**“Damn it, Charles! You were wrong. Amy doesn't like me.”**

**“Sorry, bud! Did you do something humiliating?”**

**“Actually no, but no help from you. Later.”**

Amicably, he and Amy set to work building their sundaes. She hadn't asked which flavors to grab, which is why he's pleased that she guessed his favorites. She knows him so well and it's impressive, if a bit heart wrenching.

He lets her choose which side she wants on the couch and what they watch, just enjoying the languid, companionable silence between them. They watch “Witness For The Prosecution” and when it's over Amy gathers the dishes from their dinner and dessert, depositing them in the sink before turning back to him.

“Well, goodnight. I had a nice time.” The look she gives him is infused with something he can't place, yet it's supplanted by a kind smile so quickly that he's uncertain it was ever there at all.

“Yeah, night. I'll see you before you leave in the morning?”

“I hope so, as long as you're not sleeping.”

 ______________________________________________

Before the party, Jake wasn't even aware that you can hang out on Amy's roof. Since then he'd been coming up at least once a day. The weather keeps swinging from one crazy extreme to another, but the greenhouse has a space heater to keep it warm at night and takes care of itself during the day. It's a nice setup.

That night at the party, when he and Amy were alone, Jake was very close to telling her how he feels. At the time, he was still under the impression she might like him. _“You misread the vibe, man.”_

It had been a good run, loving her and not knowing how she felt. It was certainly easier than what he's facing now. There's really no choice, he has to get over her, but he's giving himself a furlough tonight just to be in the same place they'd shared that moment and hum 80's metal ballads.

It got really chilly since earlier, so he has the little heater going on full capacity, and the twinkle lights Amy left hanging are on and dancing in the wind.

_“I just want to love her for a little bit longer, then I'll let her go completely.”_

And so he lies back to watch the stars, enjoying his time borrowed.

  
** Amy **

Sleep is a fickle bedfellow, one which Amy can't entice. She tosses for the millionth time and gives her pillow a swift punch, hoping to make it more comfortable. She knows it's not insomnia, she just feels wrong in her skin right now.

_“Something's off.”_

It's one in the morning and it seems as though a warm shower might help, so she grabs a clean towel and tiptoes to the bathroom. Jake doesn't appear to be disturbed by her actions, so she shuts the door and starts the tap.

Stepping in she notes all the things which have changed since Jake's been here, the most notable of which being the water pressure. It was terrible, but he fixed it a week ago and her showers since have been awesome. There is also a non-slip decal on the tub bottom now, meant to keep him from falling when he bathed. She had planned to get something simple and practical, but when he'd learned that she was doing it for him he got on Etsy and ordered a custom one to match her tastes-- an intricate filigree pattern of roses and tulips cut out of a deep red, heavy vinyl which he insists is a belated Christmas gift.

At the front of the shower is a caddy he'd hung for his “shower fixinz'”, laden with his spaceship toothbrush, “galactic mint” toothpaste, shaving lotion, a razor and replacement blades. She learned that he prefers to brush his teeth in the shower. And it was pleasant to discover that he willingly rinses out the tub, flushes the toilet, puts the seat down, and remembers to change the toilet roll-- habits he must have picked up after living most of his life with women.

The room starts to fill with steam, humid warmth loosening the angry knots hanging out in the shoulder she'd smacked on the door frame yesterday. Mechanically, she lathers her skin with body wash, her mind blank until more thoughts of Jake emerge from the depths of her subconscious; lately he pervades her life and confuses her senses. Through the swirling mist, she can smell his scent everywhere, and as the water sluices down her length, her skin flushes and hums. Against her best efforts, memories of his engagement with Elizabeth-- the sounds the stranger made from a blissful orgasm-- creep over Amy. She's becoming ridiculously aroused but doesn't want to think of Jake and his visitor, so she turns the tap to cold and rinses quickly.

Once done, she dries off aggressively then wraps herself in the towel.

_“Well, that didn't help”_

Stepping into the hall, she's startled by the _snap_ of her front door closing quietly. It's a relief to see that it's only Jake.

 

**Jake**

It seemed simple enough to duck back into the apartment without waking Amy, but apparently she's already up. A second ticks by before he realizes that she's wrapped in a towel, freshly out of a shower and smelling sublimely, despite the distance between them.

“That's, uh, strong body wash you use. It's really nice.” Eyes somewhat averted, “I was out on the roof just, you know-- stuff.”

** Amy **

“Jake, what are you doing? You can look at me while we talk.” Skin, stinging and flushed, Amy admits inwardly that she actually wants him to look. “Were you serious earlier?”

He turns, eyes awash with sadness. “Yeah.”

Confidence surges in her veins. “I wish I'd known sooner.”

Jake moves to stand opposite her in the hallway, “Why?"

This tiny fragment of time, a mere sliver of hope and opportunity, feels _right_ ; breath in sync, eyes which truly see each other, steeped in intent and hunger. Reaching forward, Amy takes his hand and lifts it to her lips, brushing them softly over his knuckles. “I want this.”

Starkly confused, Jake sucks in a breath, almost as if he were in pain. “Amy, I can't be casual with you.”

Jake is in her orbit now. Close and radiating heat, an intoxicating scent, and something so comforting it somehow makes her even more aroused.

Smiling, she intones, “Then don't.”

**Jake**

Jake breathes deeply, silent in the fear that the wrong words now might make her change her mind. Her mouth is so soft on the back of his hand; flipping it over to cup her chin, he runs his thumb over her lips, eliciting the most lilting, erotic sigh he'd ever heard a from a woman.

All doubts evaporated, Jake kisses Amy deeply-- both hands gliding up her damp, slender neck to tangle into her wet hair; he cradles her head and she moans, her own hands working down the zipper on his hoodie and impatiently tearing open his shirt. Without a second thought to the destruction of his button-down, Jake releases her just long enough to shrug off his sweatshirt and the remains of his top before gripping her waist to pull her body flush with his.

Jake is now painfully erect, the rough denim of his jeans making him wish he'd worn underwear today. Despite that, his only concern is making Amy feel as good as she deserves.

Amy wraps her arms around his neck as he presses her backwards into the wall, her breath coming in small bursts. He slows his mouth on hers to a leisurely, teasing rhythm, then reaches down between them-- lifting the edge of her towel and tracing the side of his index finger up her inner thigh to stop just below her groin.

Amy opens her eyes to look at him. She must understand why he'd paused because she hooks a finger around his belt loop, tugging him into her and whispering, “Yes, Jake.”

At this, he smirks and continues his original task, brushing his finger over her warm, soft labia and slipping it in between them. She's incredibly wet, her fluids coating his finger and running down the back of his hand and wrist; it takes a tremendous amount of control not to drop his pants and fuck her right then. Sliding his finger back along her slit, he locates her clitoris and begins to work it in gentle circles, testing different speeds until he finds the one which causes her to break their kiss and bite down on his shoulder. He can feel her clinging more and more tightly; choked moans escape her with increasing volume and she's leaning into his other arm so firmly that he's sure he's the only thing keeping her from tipping over.

He'd never experienced a more ecstatic high than when Amy begins whimpering into his neck musically. Her towel has peeled open and fallen to the floor, and her nipples are brushing against his chest as she begins to undulate slightly. Jake realizes she's close when her thighs and arms start to quake, so he diligently redoubles his efforts, maintaining the exact pressure until she slams her fist back into the wall and comes, shaking violently. Amy rides out her orgasm clasping his shoulders and struggling to rein in her trembling limbs.

**Amy**

As soon as she's able to stand on her own, Amy weaves her fingers into Jake's hair with one hand, pulling his mouth down to hers to kiss him thoroughly. Her other hand travels around and into his back pocket, emerging with his wallet.

Jake laughs, “Amy? What are you doing?”

“I'm not on the pill.” It only takes a second for her to flip open the tri-fold and extract a condom from one of the inner pockets. Checking the date with a glance, Amy takes an awestruck Jake by the hand and leads him to a dining room chair, placing the condom on the nearby table. She opens his belt and pulls it through its loops in one smooth motion, keeping her eyes locked on his. It's a wonderful feeling to see him mesmerized, stunned, and stilled by her actions. The button on his jeans pops open with ease, and the zipper slides downward under the weight of his erect, swollen cock. Jake's chest heaves but he's otherwise steady, motionless while her fingers tuck over the top of his jeans to lower them over his hips, letting them fall to the floor. Amy stands on her toes and leans in to sweep her tongue over his lips before taking him in her palm. At her touch, he melts-- a low groan rumbling in his throat as he buries his face in the curve of her neck. His hips thrust into her fist and she obliges by gripping him firmly and smoothly turning her hand over the head of his dick in time with his movements. After a moment, she directs, “Have a seat, Jake.”

Once he's sitting, Amy kneels before him. His cock twitches, but despite being very obviously enthralled by the notion of her mouth around him, he manages to get out, “Amy, you don't have t-” before being struck silent by the sensation of her sweet, warm tongue and cheeks enveloping his length.

Amy can feel him trying not to thrust upwards as she sucks him, so she grips his hips assertively and encourages him to do so. When she relaxes her throat and hums, Jake grates out a “ _fuck_ ”, throwing his head back and emitting a sound which is somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

“Amy...” Her name flows off of his tongue as she continues to blow him; in her work, her nails rake softly along his thighs, the muscles of which tighten just as he strokes his hand over the top of her head. “Amy, I'm-- I'm going to come.”

She wishes she could have seen his eyes when she responded “I know” because her words immediately pushed him to his climax. Her apartment echoes with his cry of pleasure, and under normal circumstances she may have been embarrassed that her neighbors probably heard it, but she just doesn't care. His cum fills her mouth and it's surprisingly pleasant. She keeps sucking lightly until she's swallowed it all, then sits back on her heels and wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Who are you?!” Jake exclaims. “Holy shit, that was amazing. Come here.”

** Jake **

Jake pulls Amy up to straddle his lap. This is the first chance he's had to really look at her and he's doing his best to memorize everything about this moment-- with her naked and open before him, completely, unabashedly brazen. Starting at her knees, he glides his hands up over her hips and abdomen, delighting in how soft her breasts feel and how her nipples tighten under his thumbs.

Amy cages him in when she clutches the back of the chair for support. Spine arched, she angles forward and rears up slightly, until her breast is within reach of Jake's mouth. He reaches his hand between her thighs and strokes her clit again and takes the offered nipple in his mouth, sucking and laving reverently. Upon the realization that his thighs are completely drenched by her wetness, his cock hardens again. Amy sees his erection. “Jake. Condom.”

Deftly, he grabs the wrapper from where she placed in on the table next to them and tears it open, sliding the condom on with one hand while Amy pinches the tip for him. She grinds her hips forward along his shaft, slicking him with her fluids. Holding still, she waits for him to position at her entrance and, once he has, slides down with a satisfied sigh. This position gives Jake a heavenly view and he's completely entranced by the sight of himself gliding in and out of her. Her movements are precise and lithe, each twirl of her hips gifting him an increasingly debilitating pleasure response. His mind is hazy with the various elements of this encounter flooding his senses; the smell of their sex, her thighs clamped to his like a vice, her ass bouncing against his lap, and the way he can't stop himself from whispering her name over and over as she fucks him.

Gripping her waist, Jake mirrors her thrusts with his own, slamming up into her. The sounds of their labored breathing and wet thighs slapping against each others is hypnotizing and before he can stop himself he kisses her under her jaw and murmurs, “Fuck, Amy. I love you so much.” To his shock, she doesn't stop, but bears down and rides him even harder, kissing him fiercely. He returns her enthusiasm and places his palm on her lower stomach to rub her clit with his thumb. The head of his dick is hitting her G-spot, he can tell, and the added stimulation from his hand has her coiling around him as another orgasm builds.

“Fuck, fuck, Jake, oh god, fuck. Please, oh f-f-f-fuck...” Her expression is almost pained.

Jake takes his other hand and delicately strokes the hair out of her face. “Please, gorgeous. Please come for me.”

His endearment is enough to set her off. All at once he feels her walls clamp around him, shuddering so hard that he ejaculates instantly, their mutual cries blasting off the walls before they each cover the others mouth with a hand. Sinking into him, Amy begins to giggle.

“What?” Jake wraps his arms around her, hugging her close. She lifts her head and smiles.

“I love you, too.”

 


	13. Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Jake and Amy's confessions of love.

**Amy**

Amy thrills as Jake's eyes open wide as saucers.

“You're shitting me!” He looks utterly incredulous.

“Jake, come on-- are you serious right now?” The urge to lightly punch him in the shoulder overtakes her, but she fights it.

He laughs deep in his belly, “Look, I'm just shocked. You're waaaay out of my league; are you sure you're not crack addled or maybe stroking out or something?”

At this she laughs and mirrors his beaming grin. “Yep, it must be the crack, come to think of it.” Jake pulls a cartoonishly affronted face; she kisses the end of his nose. “You're too hard on yourself. You're a great guy with a lot more to offer than you think. I'll say it again if that helps: I love you, Jake. Now, do you want to go another round?”

“Oh, hells yeah!” His cock, still inside her, hardens almost instantly. Grabbing her thighs and standing in one smooth motion, he carries her towards her bedroom. “Got more condoms in there?”

“Of course! They're organized by texture and color.” Amy giggles into his shoulder.

** Rosa **

“Ugh, couples are so annoying.” Rosa scowls across the street at a pair, clearly smitten, who practically skip out of a stationery store. It's a bitingly cold day, but she also forgot her lunch, so she asked Charles out to a cafe near the precinct. Rosa is loathe to use the word “quaint”, but that's really the only way to describe the blue-ginghamed, floral-wreathed, cinnamon-scented hole in the wall.

“Oh, now, it's not so bad! Look-- they're so in love. I think it's nice.” Charles smiles at the lovers through the window then returns to his notes on his crepe's sauce consistency. He mumbles, “Hmm-- somewhere between maple syrup and muselage glue. How strange!”

Returning to her club sandwich, Rosa rolls her eyes, “It just doesn't bother you because of your perfect romance. How is Vivian, by the way?”

He looks up from his writing. “Oh she's good! Very busy with exams, so she's put me in charge of the wedding plans. It's not all champagne and erotic roleplay, though, sometimes we disagree. For example, she doesn't like flannel bed sheets; talk about an intense conversation!”

Rosa does her very best not to crinkle her nose at his over-share. “I'm just glad there aren't any other couples hanging around right now. My boyfriend can be so clingy sometimes. Did you know that he asked to see my apartment? We've only been together for eight months-- next he'll want to know my birthday.”

Charles locks eyes on the pink lace notepad he'd picked up after seeing, and liking, the one at Amy's. Rosa doesn't miss that he's avoiding her gaze. “You know something. What is it?”

Sputtering, “I-- what? No! Knows nothing, not me. Nope. Do you think people would enjoy a crepe station at the wedding? That might be fun. I'd be willing to hire this place to cater, but I'd have to have a candid discussion with the chef about his sauce, it has terrible mouth-feel. What do y--”

Rosa snatches the pad out from under his nose. Gripping at the binding, she snarls. “Tell me or the notes get it!”

He slumps in his seat, “It's Jake and Amy!”

  
“What? You're saying they're together? When did this happen?”

“Well, I got a text from him super-early this morning that said, 'Thundercats are go!', That can only mean that they've entered a committed relationship-- it couldn't be any plainer. But please don't say anything! It's not our place.”

Her expression softens at his earnest appeal. “Of course I won't say anything. Actually, I'm happy for them.”

Nonplussed, he asks, “But what about 'Ugh, couples are so annoying”?

Shrugging, “This is Jake. It's just different. Now, tell me about this crepe station thingy.”

  
** Jake **

When he awakens, Amy has already left for work. The bed feels cold and empty, despite the mountain of calico quilts over his legs. Turning, he finds a note, a glass of water, and his pain pills on the bedside table. Bemused by her matronly memo paper and exacting script, he grins and reads her message.

 _“_ _Hey, Jake! Good morning and I love you. Have a good day and call if you need anything._

_\--Amy_

_P.S. I'm bringing home your reinstatement paperwork tonight. You need your social security_

_number but I remember you joking a few months back that you don't know what it is. If that's_

_true, text me and I'll pick up your card from your apartment later._   


_P.S.S. I had a great time last night. No regrets.”_

 

“Best! Morning! Ever!” Jake hollers and pumps his fist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the short update, I just really wanted to get a part out today. I hope you're all well and thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I look forward to any feedback.


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